ARTHUR  E.  WILSON 
Beneficent  Church 
Providence,  R-  l- 


LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES 


BY 


EEV.  THOMAS  GUAED,  D.D. 

WITH 

MEMORIAL    SERMON 

BY 

REV.    T.    DE   WITT   TALMAGE,   D.D. 

COMPILED   BY 

"WILL  J.   GUARD. 


NEW  YORK: 
PHILLIPS    <&    HUNT. 

CINCINNATI: 
CRANSTON   &    STOWE. 

1SS5. 


Copyright,  1883,  by 
PHILLIPS    &    HUNT, 

New  York. 


PREFACE. 


ABOUT  eleven  years  ago  the  author  of  these  Lect- 
ures and  Addresses  made  his  first  appearance 
before  an  American  audience  in  the  city  of  New  York. 
The  object  of  his  visit  to  this  land  was  that  he  might 
help  raise  a  building  fund  for  the  erection  of  a  new 
Methodist  church  in  the  city  whence  he  had  come — 
Port  Elizabeth,  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  where  nearly 
ten  years  of  his  life  had  been  spent.  The  method  he 
adopted  for  the  raising  of  this  fund  was  the  deliv- 
ery of  lectures  in  different  cities  of  the  United  States 
and  Canada.  He  came,  we  might  say,  all  but  unan- 
nounced, a  stranger  to  a  strange  land  ;  but  he  had 
not  appeared  many  times  as  a  public  speaker  before 
his  lectures  were  attended  with  no  inconsiderable 
success,  being  heard  with  evident  interest  at  least  by 
that  portion  of  the  public  forming  the  membership 
of  the  Methodist  Church. 

Though  he  came  without  the  anticipation  of  ever 
finally  making  his  home  in  America,  it  was  not  many 
months  before  two  or  three  congregations,  recogniz- 
ing his  power  as  a  preacher  as  well  as  a  platform 
speaker,  extended  invitations  to  him  to  become  their 
pastor.  The  invitation  of  Mount  Yernon  Place 
Methodist  Church,  of  Baltimore,  he  accepted ;  of 
which  charge  he  was  appointed  pastor  in  March,  1872. 


iv  PREFACE. 

At  this  church  he  remained  three  years — the  limit 
of  the  pastorate  in  this  denomination — leaving  Balti- 
more for  San  Francisco  in  18Y5.  He  remained  three 
years  at  Howard  Street  Methodist  Episcopal  Church 
in  the  latter  city,  leaving  that  charge  to  become  the 
pastor  of  the  First  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of 
Oakland — the  Brooklyn  of  San  Francisco.  A  year 
and  a  half  was  spent  here  ;  until,  in  compliance  with 
an  invitation  by  his  former  charge  in  that  city,  he  re- 
turned, in  March,  1880,  to  Baltimore. 

In  March,  1883,  he  was  to  have  become  the  pastor 
of  the  Spring  Garden  Street  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  of  Philadelphia.  This  expectation,  however, 
was  not  to  be  realized.  On  October  10,  1882,  he 
submitted  to  the  operation  of  litholapaxy  for  relief  from 
a  trouble  of  great  severity  and  long  continuance.  The 
operation  in  itself  was  quite  successful.  The  follow- 
ing day  seemed  to  bring  with  it  relief  and  marked 
signs  of  improvement.  But  the  shock  was  too  much 
for  his  nervous  system,  unprepared  as  he  was  for  the 
endurance  of  the  anaesthetics  under  whose  influence 
he  was  during  the  lengthy  instrumentation  to  which 
he  was  necessarily  subjected.  The  summer  months 
allotted  him  for  rest  and  fortification  against  the  com- 
ing trial,  were,  instead,  passed  in  lecturing,  preaching, 
and  constant  travel.  So  when  the  crucial  hour  ar- 
rived his  physique  was  in  any  thing  but  fit  condition 
for  the  painful  operation.  Toward  the  end  of  the 
week  (of  the  operation)  his  strength  began  to  ebb,  and 
finally,  on  Sunday,  October  15,  at  about  one  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  he  passed  away  unconscious.  Strange, 


PREFACE.  v 

it  would  seem,  his  first  charge  in  his  new  home  was 
to  be  his  last ! 

Many  of  the  friends  who,  in  the  author's  life,  had 
listened  with  so  much  pleasure  and  profit  to  his 
words,  have  most  naturally  expressed  a  desire  that 
some  memento  of  him  be  preserved  in  a  durable 
form.  To  gratify  this  desire,  as  well  as  put  it  within 
the  reach  of  those  who  knew  him  only  by  reputation 
to  judge  of  him  more  fully  from  what  he  has  left  be- 
hind him,  and  also  because  we  think  that  many  of 
his  manuscripts  contain  matter  of  literary  merit  and 
of  general  interest,  the  editor  has  prepared  for  pub- 
lication, as  being  among  the  most  complete,  the  Lect- 
ures and  Addresses  forming  the  contents  of  this 
volume. 

We  may  say  here  that,  as  far  as  the  editor  knows, 
the  author  never  entertained  the  idea  of  putting  any 
of  the  results  of  his  thought  before  the  public  in  the 
form  of  a  book.  In  fact,  he  shrank  from  publication 
of  lectures  or  sermons.  To  prepare  for  the  press  was 
to  him  irksome,  and  an  undertaking  he  heartily  dis- 
liked. His  appreciation  of  literary  finish  was  so  keen, 
his  ideal  of  literary  excellence  so  high,  that  he  dreaded 
the  circulation  of  any  thing  coming  from  his  pen  in 
a  crude  shape  and  devoid  of  originality.  When  urged 
to  publish  he  modestly  excused  himself  with  the  plea 
that  in  what  he  said  there  was  nothing  really  new. 
Besides  this,  as  he  has  often  said  to  the  writer,  he 
considered  whatever  of  power  he  possessed  was  to  be 
felt  as  the  words  came  direct  from  his  lips  ;  what  he 
had  to  say  must,  to  be  fully  effective,  come  from  the 


vi  PREFACE. 

pulpit  or  the  platform  rather  than  from  the  press. 
Indeed,  lie  has  even  said  he  would  have  all  his  manu- 
scripts burned  should  he  feel  his  time  to  die  had 
come.  However,  in  his  last  illness  no  reference  was 
made  by  him  to  this.  Still,  in  issuing  this  volume 
the  editor  does  not  feel  that  he  is  doing  any  thing  to 
bring  discredit  upon  the  memory  of  one  so  near  and 
dear  to  him. 

As  a  matter  of  fact,  three  or  four  of  these  lectures 
and  addresses  have  already  been  in  print.  "  Our  Li- 
brary" was  printed  in  pamphlet  form,  in  1865,  at 
Cape  Town,  South  Africa,  "  The  Mental  Activities 
of  the  Age  and  the  Bible"  had  been  delivered  as 
one  of  a  course  of  Monday  Lectures  in  Boston,  dur- 
ing Rev.  Joseph  Cook's  absence.  This  lecture,  of 
which  the  original  manuscript,  with  the  author's  char- 
acteristic indifference  to  such  matters,  had  long  since 
become  in  part  lost,  and  thus  incomplete,  was  re-writ- 
ten, after  much  hesitation,  in  the  contracted  form  in 
which  it  now  appears,  for  the  volume  containing  the 
lectures  of  the  series.  That  those  who  have  not  heard 
the  lecture  as  the  author  was  in  the  habit  of  deliver- 
ing it  may  imagine  how  different  it  must  have  been 
when  spoken,  we  may  say  that  usually  two  hours  were 
consumed  in  its  utterance;  and  with  such  rapidity 
was  it  the  custom  of  the  author  to  speak  as  to  all  but 
defy  the  attempt  of  a  stenographer  to  follow  him. 
This  lecture  is  now  reprinted  with  the  kind  permis- 
sion of  the  Committee  of  the  Boston  Monday 
Lectureship. 

The   address  on  the  "  Sovereignty  of  Man,"  the 


PREFACE.  vii 

Masonic  Oration,  and  the  Young  Men's  Christian 
Association  Address,  have  also  been  printed,  as  well 
as  "  Waste "  and  part  of  "  Savonarola,"  these  two 
undergoing  no  revision  by  the  author's  hand. 

The  remaining  Lectures  and  Addresses  had  never 
even  been  thought  of  for  publication.  They  were 
mostly  written  hastily,  to  serve  simply  as  the*  bases  of 
what  would  come  from  his  lips,  inasmuch  as  it  was 
never  the  author's  habit  to  memorize.  Many  of  them 
were  written  by  piecemeal ;  parts  on  one  kind  of  pa- 
per at  one  time  other  parts  on  another  and  different 
kind  of  paper  at  intervals  of  weeks,  months,  at  times 
years.  Indeed,  nearly  all  of  the  lectures,  which 
proved  so  very  effective  as  the  author  delivered  them, 
were  growths.  While  he  did  not  retouch  the  old 
manuscript,  he  was  continually  jotting  down  on  what- 
ever slip  of  paper  chanced  to  be  at  hand  a  new 
thought  or  a  new  figure.  These  he  wrought  into  the 
original  lecture  in  delivery,  fusing,  in  his  mind,  the 
whole  into  a  unity.  The  lecture  on  "  Wesley  "  and 
that  on  the  "  Yosemite  "  both  are  illustrations  of  the 
manner  in  which  this  growth  took  place.  The  germ 
of  "  Wesley "  was  a  lecture  on  the  "  Memories  of 
Methodism  ; "  then  came  a  lecture.  "  The  Three 
Johns" — one  of  them  Wesley.  These  lectures  be- 
came disintegrated,  and  from  their  remains  came 
forth  the  present  lecture.  Part  of  the  lecture  on  the 
"Yosemite"  was  written  in  San  Francisco,  another 
part  in  Oakland,  a  third  part  in  Baltimore.  And  so, 
also,  with  many  others. 

The  editor  has  done  the  best  in  his  power  to  insert, 


viii  PREFACE. 

in  what  seemed  to  him  to  be  the  fitting  places  in  the 
original  manuscripts,  these  fugitive  passages.  Doubt- 
less, were  the  author  here,  there  are  many  passages  he 
would  have  pruned,  and  not  a  few  sentences  upon 
which  he  would  bestow  a  finer  polish.  But,  in  his 
absence,  we  give  these  lectures  just  as  they  came  from 
his  pen,  taking  it  upon  ourselves  to  arrange  the  dif- 
ferent parts  in  as  coherent  order  as  possible.  It  may 
be  that  a  thought  will  be  met  with  in  more  than  one 
place ;  but  even  in  this  case  we  have  hesitated  eras- 
ing it,  because  of  its  interdependence  upon  the  con- 
text in  each  instance.  And,  indeed,  when  it  is  re- 
membered to  how  many  different  audiences  he  spoke 
the  words  contained  herein,  as  well  as  the  fact  that 
they  were  written  between  the  years  1864  and  1882, 
in  the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  in  Ireland,  in  Baltimore, 
and  in  California,  the  occasional  recurrence  of  a  figure 
or  thought  may — so  it  seems  to  us — be  pardoned. 

The  editor  takes  this  opportunity  to  thank  those 
who  have,  by  kindly  encouragement  and  judicious 
criticism — amongst  others,  Rev.  "W.  H.  M'Allister,  of 
Baltimore,  and  Rev.  James  Morrow  and  William  C. 
Webb,  of  Philadelphia,  personal  friends  of  the  author 
— rendered  him  no  little  assistance  in  his  undertaking. 
The  editor  hopes  before  long  to  have  ready  for  the 
press  a  second  volume,  containing  sermons,  notes  of 
sermons,  and  other  fragments  among  the  literary  re- 
mains of  the  author ;  also  the  lectures  which  had,  of 
late,  proved  so  very  popular,  the  "  Replies  to  Colonel 
Ingersoll."  W.  J.  G. 

BALTIMORE,  December,  1882 


CONTENTS. 


Page 
MEMORIAL  SERMON,  by  Rev.  T.  De  Witt  Talmage xiii 


I. 

THE  MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE  AND  THE  BI- 
BLE. A  lecture.  Republished  with  the  permission  of 
the  Boston  Monday  Lectureship 13 

II. 

OUR  LIBRARY.  A  lecture  delivered  on  behalf  of  the  Gra- 
ham's Town  (South  Africa)  Public  Library,  on  Oct.  3,  1864.  35 


III. 

WASTE.  A  lecture  written  and  first  delivered  at  Mount 
Vernon  Place  Methodist  Episcopal  Church,  Baltimore,  a  few 
weeks  previous  to  the  author's  departure  for  San  Francisco, 
inApril,  1875 73 


IV. 

WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.    A  lecture...  95 


x  CONTENTS. 

V. 

Page 

SAVONAROLA,  THE  "MARTYR  OF  FLORENCE,"  AND 
HIS  TIMES.  A  lecture,  partly  written  in  South  Africa, 
partly  in  America 142 

VI. 

SAINT  PATRICK,  THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  IRISH.  A 
lecture  written,  and  delivered  but  twice — in  March,  1880,  in 
San  Francisco,  and  Oakland,  California,  a  few  weeks  previ- 
ous to  the  author's  return  to  Baltimore 180 

VII. 

THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE— PHYSICAL,  MENTAL, 
AND  MORAL.  A  lecture  written,  with  exception  of  a  few 
interpolations,  in  South  Africa,  a  few  months  previous  to 
the  author's  visit  to  America  in  1871 223 

VIII. 

THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  A  lecture  written, 
part  in  1877,  part  in  1879,  and  part  in  1880 264 


IX. 

ADDRESS,  delivered  at  the  twenty-second  anniversary  of  the 
Young  Men's  Christian  Association  of  San  Francisco,  Sept. 
19,  1875 281 

X. 

THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  An  address  delivered  at  the 
opening  of  the  Mechanic's  Institute  Fair,  at  San  Francisco, 
September,  1879 294 


CONTENTS.  xi 

XI. 

Page 
THE   TRUE.  THE   BEAUTIFUL,   AND  THE   GOOD.     An 

address  delivered  on  the  occasion  of  the  exhibition  of  Du 
Boeuf's  painting,  "  The  Prodigal  Son,"  at  the  Masonic  Tem- 
ple, Baltimore 311 

XII. 

ADDRESS,  delivered  before  the  Independent  Order  of  Mechanics, 

at  Mount  Vernon  Church,  Sunday  evening,  April  23,  1882  .  323 

XIII. 

EMERSON,  DARWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.  Notes  of  an 
address  delivered  at  Mount  Vernon  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  Baltimore,  on  the  occasion  of  their  deaths,  April, 
1882 338 

XIV. 

MASONIC  ORATION.  Delivered  before  the  Grand  Lodge  of 
F.  and  A.  M.,  of  California,  October  10,  1878 350 


XV. 

CENTENNIAL  ADDRESS.  Being  fragmentary  notes  of  an 
oration  delivered  at  Howard-street  Methodist  Episcopal 
Church,  San  Francisco,  on  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the 
Independence  of  the  United  States  of  America,  July,  1876.  364 


MEMORIAL   SERMON. 


BY 


REV.   T.  DE  WITT   TALMAGE. 


"  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  in  the  midst  of  the  battle !  " — 1  SAM.  i,  25. 

AN  outburst  of  grief  and  eulogium  from  David  be- 
cause of  the  death  of  his  dearly-beloved  friend 
Jonathan  at  the  battle  of  Gilboa,  but  as  appropriate  an 
exclamation  for  all  those  who  heard  that,  two  weeks 
ago,  at  six  minutes  of  one  o'clock,  on  Sabbath  morn- 
ing, the  Rev.  Thomas  Guard,  pastor  of  the  Mount 
Vernon  Methodist  Episcopal  Church  of  Baltimore 
breathed  his  last.  Mighty  in  eloquence.  Mighty  in 
sympathy.  Mighty  in  influence.  Mighty  for  God. 
Mighty  for  the  Church.  Mighty  for  the  world's  better- 
ment. "  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  in  the  midst  of 
the  battle! " 

The  providence  comes  to  me  with  the  more  solemnity 
because  he  sent  me  a  salutation  of  love,  warmer  and 
more  generous  than  I  ever  received  from  any  Christian 
minister — a  salutation  which  reached  me  a  week  after 
his  death,  coming  with  the  proposition  that  we  ex- 
change pulpits,  he  to  preach  here  and  I  to  go  there. 
O,  how  glad  I  would  have  been  to  have  had  him  con- 
front this  assemblage,  and  on  this  platform  unfurl  the 
crimson  banner  of  the  cross. 


xiv  MEMORIAL  SEKMON. 

Who  was  this  Thomas  Guard  ?  I  remark,  in  the  first 
place,  he  was  a  grand  specimen  of  what  the  religion  of 
Jesus  Christ  can  do  for  a  man.  Whether  in  Ireland,  or 
in  South  Africa,  or  in  America,  on  the  Atlantic  coast,  or 
on  the  Pacific  coast,  or  in  the  cities  between,  he  was  ever 
busy  trying  to  make  the  people  good  and  happy.  I  chal- 
lenge you,  amid  all  the  ranks  of  those  who  have  despised 
Christianity,  during  all  the  ages,  to  show  me  a  soul  so 
unselfish,  so  self-sacrificing,  nnd  I  will  give  you  from  now 
until  we  meet  at  the  bar  of  God  in  the  day  of  eternal 
judgment  to  fetch  up  your  first  specimen.  It  is  only 
the  grace  of  God  that  can  make  a  character  like  that. 

Who  was  he?  He  was  a  contribution  from  Meth- 
odism to  Christianity.  He  was  in  that  apostleship  of 
which  John  Wesley  was  the  chief,  and  Alfred  Cook- 
man  the  modern,  exponent.  I  warrant  you  that  when 
this  man  of  God,  two  weeks  ago,  went  up  to  the  gate  of 
heaven,  there  was  at  that  shining  gate  a  group  of  the 
chieftains  of  that  heroic  sect  to  greet  him.  How  it 
makes  one  feel  for  the  helmet  and  the  sword  to  give 
reverential  salute  as  I  call  the  names  of  Asbury,  and 
Emory,  and  Coke,  and  Watson,  and  Fletcher,  and 
Whitefield,.  and  Bishops  Janes  and  Scott. 

But  no  fence  of  sectarianism  could  wall  in  Thomas 
Guard,  any  more  than  you  could  fence  in  the  fragrance 
of  a  grove  of  magnolias  in  full  bloom.  He  was  with 
us  in  the  attempt  to  annihilate  bitter  sectarianism,  a 
work  so  nearly  done  that,  while  in  all  our  denominations 
there  are  narrow-souled  bigots  running  around  with 
rail  and  post  and  shovel,  trying  to  rebuild  the  un- 
brotherly  separation,  the  distinctions  will  soon  all 
vanish  in  the  overwhelming  answer  to  Christ's  prayer, 
"Father,  that  they  all  may  be  one."  Who  was  he? 


MEMORIAL  SERMON.  xv 

He  was  the  contribution  of  foreign  nationality  to 
America.  Born  in  Galway,  Ireland,  in  1831.  Died  in 
Maryland,  United  States,  1882.  Take  away  from  the 
history  of  the  American  forum,  the  American  labora- 
tory, and  the  American  pulpit  all  foreign  talent,  and 
you  have  obliterated  more  than  half  of  it.  Scotland 
grows  great  metaphysicians,  England  grows  great 
philosophers,  Germany  grows  great  dreamers,  Italy 
grows  great  painters,  Sweden  and  Norway  grow  great 
singers,  and  Ireland  grows  great  orators. 

Thomas  Guard  came  from  the  land  of  Edmund 
Burke  and  Robert  Emmet  and  Daniel  O'Connell,  and 
he  showed  it.  The  fire  of  eloquence  was  in  his  eye,  in 
his  hand,  in  his  foot,  and  quivered  in  his  whole  body. 
With  every  tone,  with  every  attitude,  with  every  gesture, 
he  defied  all  the  rules  of  rhetoric  as  laid  down  in  the 
books.  He  made  his  own  laws.  Unlike  all  others,  he 
was  like  himself.  Electric,  thunderbolted.  Irish  elo- 
quence sanctified.  When  America  has  received  for  the 
last  half  century  such  a  large  donation  of  great  souls 
from  Ireland  she  can  well  afford  to  return  her  sym- 
pathy. Bread  when  there  is  famine,  and  world-resound- 
ing protest  when  there  is  political  oppression. 

Who  was  he?  He  was  a  preacher  of  the  Gospel, 
natural  and  untrammeled  by  the  way  other  people  did 
their  work.  His  church  was  thronged.  A  building 
holding  1,500  or  2,000  people,  and  thronged.  He  did 
not  use  what  is  called  the  pulpit  tone.  He  spoke  out 
of  a  sympathetic  heart  to  the  hearts  of  the  people.  In 
all  denominations  there  is  discussion  about  the  decad- 
ence of  church  going.  I  will  tell  you  why  people  do 
not  go  to  church.  They  cannot  stand  the  humdrum  of 
ministers  resolved  to  preach  like  all  their  predecessors 


xvi  MEMORIAL  SEKMON. 

and  like  every  body  else.  The  fact  is  that  some  of  the 
theological  seminaries  in  this  day  take  all  the  fire  out 
of  a  man,  and  send  him  into  the  pulpit  cowed  down. 
They  tell  him  how  many  heads  he  must  have  to  his 
discourse,  and  how  long  the  introduction  must  be,  and 
what  kind  of  an  application  must  be  fastened  on  at 
the  end,  and  ho\v  he  must  plant  his  foot,  and  how  he 
must  throw  out  his  hand,  and  there  are  thousands  of 
Presbyterian  and  Methodist  and  Baptist  and  Congre- 
gational churches  to-day  dying  by  inches  through  in- 
tolerable humdrum.  Thomas  Guard  threw  body,  mind, 
and  soul  against  these  frigid  conventionalities  of  the 
Church,  and  they  cracked  and  gave  way  under  his  holy 
impetuosity. 

Eloquence  is  not  attitude,  it  is  not  gesture,  it  is  not 
voice ;  it  is  being  possessed  with  some  important 
thought  and  making  others  feel  as  you  do.  I  wish 
that  the  young  men  of  our  theological  seminaries  could 
have  heard  Thomas  Guard  preach.  The  trouble  is 
that  in  many  theological  seminaries  young  men  are 
taught  how  to  preach  by  professors  who  themselves 
never  could  preach.  You  can  no  more  get  people  to 
come  to  church,  doing  things  now  as  they  did  a  century 
ago,  than  you  can  get  them  to  discard  the  limited  ex- 
press train  to  Washington  and  go  with  the  stage-coach. 
The  old  Gospel,  the  same  Gospel  from  century  to 
century,  but  having  its  adaptation  to  each  age.  What 
a  farce  is  being  enacted  in  many  of  the  cities!  A 
church  holding  a  thousand  people  with  two  hundred 
and  fifty  folks  in  it,  scattered  around  in  great  lone- 
someness,  and  going  there  from  year  to  year  because  it 
has  been  decreed  from  all  eternity  that  they  should  go, 
and  they  somehow  cannot  help  it. 


MEMORIAL  SERMON.  xvii 

"Who  was  he  ?  He  was  a  man  of  large  sympathies. 
The  earth  could  not  fill  him;  he  took  in  heaven  as  well. 
All  time,  all  eternity,  all  heights,  all  depths,  all  lengths, 
all  breadths.  Thorough  manliness.  No  whining  out 
of  the  Gospel.  No  whimpering  about  the  world  as 
going  to  destruction  when  it  is  going  to  redemption. 
No  patience  with  men  inside  or  outside  the  ministry 
bnilt  on  a  small  scale,  five  feet  by  three,  trying  to  pull 
others  down,  hoping  out  of  the  debris  to  build  them- 
selves up.  Hating  cant  with  as  much  emphasis  as 
Thomas  Carlyle  hated  it,  but  for  an  opposite  reason; 
not  as  the  tiger  hates  the  calf,  but  as  music  hates  dis- 
cord and  as  sunshine  hates  darkness.  He  was  full  off 
the  gospel  of  good  cheer,  the  gospel  of  geniality,  the 
gospel  of  practical  help,  the  gospel  of  spring  morning, 
the  gospel  of  carnation,  rose,  and  pond  lily.  I  think 
that  to  him  the  blooming  orchard  was  a  burning  censer 
swinging  before  the  throne.  I  think  that  to  him  the 
sky  was  a  gallery  and  the  clouds  were  pictures  done  in 
water-colors.  Great  soul,  gentle  soul,  sympathetic 
soul,  suffering  soul,  triumphant  soul,  transcendent  soul. 

I  do  not  know  through  which  one  of  the  twelve  gates 
in  Heaven  he  entered  when  he  ascended  two  weeks 
ago;  but  if  there  be  one  gate  with  larger  pearl  than 
another,  and  with  hinges  of  more  ponderous  gold  than 
another,  and  with  arch  more  triumphal  than  another, 
and  with  waiting  chariot  of  swifter  wheel  and  snowier 
coursers  than  another,  I  think  that  was  the  gate  at 
which  Thomas  Guard  entered. 

While  I  consider  this  providence  which  affects  all  the 
Christian  Church,  I  am  struck  first  with  the  mysteries  and 
then  with  the  alleviations.  Mystery  the  first:  Why 

should  so  good  a  man  be  called  so  terrifically  to  suffer? 
2 


xviii  MEMORIAL  SERMON. 

There  came  all  those  years  of  domestic  anxiety  because 
of  Ms  wife's  invalidism,  moving  from  Ireland  to  South 
Africa,  for  the  same  cause  moving  from  the  Atlantic- 
coast  to  the  Pacific  coast,  for  the  same  cause  moving 
from  San  Francisco  to  Oakland.  The  honeymoon 
lasted  from  the  time  when,  at  twenty-seven  years  of 
his  age,  he  took  her  hand  at  Dublin,  on  down  until  when, 
four  or  five  years  ago,  he  put  her  away  for  the  resur- 
rection. Ah,  that  husbandly  affection  is  of  but  poor 
fiber  which  lasts  only  while  the  eye  sparkles  and  the 
cheek  has  in  it  the  flush  of  the  sunrise.  He  held  that 
hand  as  tenderly  and  as  lovingly  after  it  was  wasted 
and  sick  as  when  it  was  round  and  well  and  strong. 
The  ardor  of  affection  increasing  all  the  way  from 
Dublin  to  Oakland. 

Then  came  those  four  or  five  years  when,  at  any  mo- 
ment, he  was  liable  to  paroxysm  of  physical  suffering  ; 
postponing  the  surgeon's  knife  until  he  could  postpone 
it  no  longer;  with  nervous  horror  approaching  the 
crisis  until  he  had  no  strength  to  meet  it;  passing  out 
of  life  with  physical  agonies  which  anodyne  and 
hypodermic  appliances  only  partially  assuaged.  Suffer- 
ing, suffering.  Tell  me  why.  I  cannot  tell  you.  I 
adjourn  the  mystery  to  the  day  when  Ridley  shall  have 
explained  to  him  the  fiery  stake,  and  Hugh  M'Kail  shall 
have  explained  to  him  the  scaffold,  and  Margaret  the 
martyr  Scotch  girl  shall  have  explained  to  her  the 
wave  with  which  she  was  drowned,  and  James  A.  Gar- 
field  shall  have  explained  to  him  the  bullet,  and  that 
suffering  woman  up  the  dark  alley  shall  have  explained 
to  her  the  cancer,  and  the  rainbow  of  God's  bright  and 
beautiful  explanation  shall  be  hung  on  all  the  departed 
showers  of  earthly  gri«f. 


MEMORIAL  SERMON.  xix 

Mystery  the  second:  Why  should  he  be  taken  at 
fifty-one  years  of  age,  and  at  the  very  height  of  his 
power  and  influence  ?  Why  not  wait  until  he  was  worn 
out  with  old  age  ?  Why,  after  the  batteries  hnd  been 
loaded  for  a  new  campaign  and  were  about  to  be  un- 
limbered,  must  a  gunner  drop?  Why  should  he  be 
taken  before  this  Austerlitz,  this  Sedan,  this  Waterloo 
between  Infidelity  and  Christianity  is  undisputedly  set- 
tled in  behalf  of  Him  who  is  the  rider  on  the  white 
horse  ?  Why  should  this  fearless  and  mounted  captain 
of  the  Lord's  host  be  slain  while  the  feet  of  many 
weak  Christians  are  by-  terror  being  shaken  out  of 
the  stirrups?  Why  should  this  man  die  when  to 
rally  the  courage  of  the  Christian  Church  we  want 
more  plumed  warriors  at  the  front  ?  It  is  the  last 
part  of  my  text  that  sounds  like  the  roll  of  a  funeral 
drum.  "  How  are  the  mighty  fallen  in  the  midst  of 
the  battle !  " 

It  is  as  though  Blucher  had  been  slain  while  coming 
up  at  nightfall  with  reinforcements.  It  is  as  though 
Garnet  Wolseley  had  fallen  half-way  between  Alexan- 
dria and  Tel-el-Kebir.  How  demoralizing,  to  have  the 
riderless  horse  of  a  chieftain  careering  and  snorting 
across  the  battle  plain.  Why  was  it,  when  Thoma-? 
Guard  had  gathered  up  so  much  knowledge,  so  much 
experience,  he  should  be  taken  away  just  as  his  best 
work  was  about  to  be  done  ?  Tell  me.  I  cannot  tell 
you.  I  adjourn  the  mystery  to  that  day  when  we  shall 
find  out  why  Henry  Kirk  White  expired  at  twenty-one 
years  of  age,  just  as  he  was  giving  intimation  to  the 
Christian  church  that  he  had  in  him  the  song  power  of 
Isaac  Watts  and  Charles  Wesley,  writing  with  his 
boyish  hand  : 


xx  MEMORIAL  SEEMON. 

When  marshaled  on  the  nightly  plain, 

The  glittering  hosts  bestud  the  sky; 
One  star  alone  of  all  the  train 

Can  fix  the  sinner's  wandering  eye. 
Hark,  hark  to  God,  the  cliorus  breaks, 

From  every  host,  from  every  gem, 
But  one  alone  the  Saviour  speaks, 

It  is  the  Star  of  Bethlehem. 

I  postpone  this  mystery  of  Thomas  Guard's  death  to 
the  day  when  we  shall  find  out  why  John  Summertield, 
the  flaming  evangel,  expired  at  twenty-seven  years  of 
age,  just  as  his  grandest  work  seemed  opening  before 
him;  and  why  John  M'Clintock  died  before  he  had 
,  completed  his  cyclopedia  of  biblical,  theological,  and 
ecclesiastical  literature;  and  until  the  day  when  we 
shall  know  why,  last  year,  at  fifty-seven  years  of  age, 
William  Morley  Punshon  closed  his  lips  forever,  while 
on  his  shoulder  rested  the  interests  of  the  English 
Missionary  Society,  and  there  were  yet  so  many  words 
of  fire  waiting  for  him  to  speak.  Yea,  until  that  day 
when  we  shall  find  why  Beethoven  was  struck  with 
complete  deafness  so  that  he  could  not  hear  the  loudest 
organ  crash  rendering  his  own  music;  and  that  day 
when  we  shall  find  out  why  so  many  authors  never 
finished  their  manuscripts,  and  why  so  many  artists 
dropped  their  pencils  just  as  they  were  making  the 
outline  of  a  great  masterpiece,  and  why  so  many  poets 
stopped  midway  the  rhythm,  and  why  so  many  bright 
days  halted  at  noon. 

O,  yes,  it  was  with  Thomas  Guard  twelve  o'clock 
meridian.  The  clock  of  his  life  struck  one  at  Galway, 
struck  nine  at  South  Africa,  struck  ten  at  San  Fran- 
cisco, struck  eleven  at  Oakland,  struck  twelve  at 


MEMORIAL  SERMON.  xxi 

Baltimore.  High  noon,  and  the  sun  eclipsed.  But 
that  last  word,  thank  God,  passes  us  out  from  the 
shadows  of  mystery  into  the  glorious  alleviation  of 
this  providence. 

Eclipsed,  not  extinguished;  something  rolled  between 
us  and  him,  doing  no  damage  to  him.  When  Jupiter 
hides  one  of  his  satellites  it  is  occultation.  No  one 
has  any  idea  that  the  satellite  is  destroyed.  When 
the  earth  casts  its  shadow  on  the  moon,  it  is  lunar 
eclipse,  but  no  one  has  any  idea  that  the  queen  of  night 
is  dethroned.  When  Mercury  partially  hides  the  face 
of  the  sun,  we  call  it  a  transit,  but  we  have  no  idea 
that  any  damage  is  done.  When  the  moon  hides  the 
sun,  it  is  solar  eclipse ;  but  no  one  has  any  idea  that 
the  king  of  day  is  dead.  I  pronounce  this  departure 
of  Thomas  Guard  to  be  occultation,  transit,  eclipse. 

When  the  sun  was  eclipsed  in  1842  and  in  1868  and 
1869,  all  the  astronomers  gathered  in  the  observatories 
and  all  the  telescopes  were  drawn  heavenward;  and 
now,  as  this  effulgent  nature  is  eclipsed,  we  do  well  to 
come  up  in  the  watchtowers  of  the  Church  and  into  the 
observatory  of  Mount  Zion,  and  stand  like  the  men  of 
Galilee  gazing  into  heaven.  If  you  have  any  idea  that 
Thomas  Guard  lies  lacerated  in  Green  Mount  Cemetery 
I  have  no  share  in  your  wretched  agnosticism.  Alas 
for  that  sepulcher  which  has  a  knob  on  the  outside  the 
door  to  let  us  in,  but  no  latch  on  the  inside  the  door  to 
let  us  out! 

This  man  of  God  has  only  moved  on  and  moved  up. 

He  passed  out  of  a  room  where  the  air  was  luavy 
with  opiates  into  an  atmosphere  exhilarant,  and  from 
a  body  painstruck  into  conditions  rubicund  with  health 
immortal.  He  has  become  one  of  the  athletes  of 


xxii  MEMORIAL  SERMON. 

heaven — deathless  as  God  is  deathless,  never  to  know 
pain  or  sickness  or  suffering  or  sorrow  except  as  a  vivid 
reminiscence.  His  mission  is  widened  out.  He  has 
come  to  higher  appointment,  not  to  this  church  or  to 
that  church,  or  this  denomination  or  that  denomina- 
tion, or  this  city  or  that  city,  or  this  world  or  that 
world.  He  has  the  universe  to  range  in.  What  veloci- 
ties !  What  circuits !  What  momentum !  What 
orbits  in  which  the  stars  shall  be  as  silvery  as  before 
the  occultation,  and  the  sun  shall  be  :is  radiant  as  be- 
fore the  eclipse. 

You  could  not  understand  fully  Thomas  Guard  here, 
you  cannot  understand  Thomas  Guard  there.  More 
difference  than  between  an  eagle  in  an  iron  cage  and 
an  eagle  pitching  from  Chimborazo  toward  the  sun. 
His  work  on  earth  is  not  done,  it  is  not  half  done,  it  is 
not  a  fourth  done,  it  is  not  a  thousandth  part  done. 
He  resumes  it  now  under  better  auspices.  How  do  I 
know  ?  "  Are  they  not  all  ministering  spirits  sent  forth 
to  minister  to  them  that  shall  be  heirs  of  salvation  ? " 
The  lines  of  telegraphy  and  of  rail  track  connect  no 
two  earthly  cities  so  well  as  earth  is  connected  with 
heaven. 

Did  Thomas  Guard,  after  he  was  established  in  this 
land,  go  to  South  Africa  to  get  his  family  and  bring 
them  to  this  better  country  ?  and  shall  he  not  now 
come  back  some  time  to  that  earthly  home,  and  at  the 
right  time  take  his  loved  ones  to  the  still  better  coun- 
try? But  he  shall  not  come  alone.  The  twain  shall 
come,  they  who  were  side  by  side  for  so  many  years, 
bending  over  the  same  eradle,  weeping  over  the  same 
grave,  now  coming  side  by  side,  wing  and  wing,  to 
hover  over  those  children  when  they  sleep,  and  to  es- 


MEMORIAL  SKKMOX  xxiii 

cort  them  heavenward  when  they  die.  Father  and 
mother  coming  to  help.  Father  nnd  mother  coming 
down  to  comfort.  Father  and  mother  coming  down  to 
defend. 

The  air  this  autumnal  day  is  not  so  darkened  with  the 
flocks  of  birds  Hying  southward  seeking  a  summer 
clime,  not  so  full  as  the  air  is  full  of  ministering  spirits. 

Angels  are  hovering  around.  Flocks  of  immortals 
sweeping  this  way  and  that.  Earth  no  more  an  or- 
phaned world,  but  a  suburb  of  heaven.  Blessed  is  that 
earthly  home  where  Christian  parents  preside,  but  more 
mightily  defended  is  that  home  which  a  glorified  an- 
cestry canopy  with  their  benediction.  Elisha  saw  the 
mountains  full  of  horses  and  chariots  of  supernatural 
aid,  nnd  so  they  are  yet.  Which  way  are  they  driving  ? 
The  horses  head  this  way.  How  the  chariots  rumble 
down  the  sky  steeps.  Sent  forth  to  minister.  Is 
yonder  a  soul  in  great  excruciation  of  pain,  and  shall 
Thomas  Guard  refuse  the  ministry  when  he  knows 
nbout  suffering?  Is  yonder  a  soul  awfully  bereft? 
Surely  Thomas  Guard  cannot  refuse  his  ministry,  for 
he  knows  what  it  is  to  be  bereft.  Shall  we  have  re- 
vivals of  religion  in  our  churches,  and  Thomas  Guard 
not  join  in  the  alleluia?  Shall  there  come  a  great 
Armageddon  in  which  all  the  good  are  one  side,  and  all 
the  bad  on  the  other  side  ;  earth  and  hell  and  heaven 
drawn  out  in  battle  array,  and  the  gallant  spirit  just  as- 
cended not  mingle  in  the  fight  ?  not  draw  his  sword  ?  not 
lift  his  battle  shout  ? 

Passing  on  to  fatigueless  service.  Perhaps  he  will 
preach  the  Gospel  to  some  other  world  that  needs 
a  Saviour.  Perhaps  he  will  carry  quick  dispatch  from 
the  throne  of  God  to  some  empire  of  which  the 


xxiv  MEMORIAL  SERMON. 

strongest  telescope  has  yet  made  no  revelation.  Perhaps 
he  will  take  a  special  part  in  the  chorals  before  the  throne. 
Perhaps  he  will  help  compose  some  new  doxology  for  the 
blessed.  Perhaps  he  will  tell,  while  all  the  galleries  of 
light  listen,of  that  grace  which  strengthened  him  through 
all  the  earthly  struggle,  the  closing  words  of  his  recital 
drowned  out  by  the  outburst  of  ministrelsy  that  can  halt 
no  longer,  the  surges  dashing  to  the  top  of  the  throne, 
while  the  archangel  rising  beats  time  with  his  scepter. 

When  a  good  man  was  dying,  he  said  he  saw  written 
on  the  sky  three  letters,  and  they  were  all  alike.  The 
letter  "V."  Some  one  said  to  this  man  dying  what  he 
thought  the  letter  "  V  "  was  for.  He  said,  "  I  think  it 
stands  for  victory."  So  over  all  this  scene  there  is 
written  congratulation  for  the  departed,  comfort  for 
the  bereft,  and  encouragement  for  us  all.  Three  "  Vs." 
Victory  !  Victory  !  Victory  !  Three  "  IPs."  Heaven  ! 
Heaven  !  Heaven  ! 

On  a  catafalque  of  flowers  Thomas  Guard  lay  under 
architectural  grandeurs  hung  with  symbols  of  sadness, 
the  air  throbbing  with  the  "  Dead  March  in  Saul,"  and 
beautiful,  cultured,  and  queenly  Baltimore  breaking  her 
richest  box  of  alabaster  and  pouring  its  contents  on  those 
weary  feet  as  they  halted  in  the  journey,  and  the 
American  Church,  North,  South,  East,  West,  sobbing 
out  its  sympathies  over  that  great  loving  heart  silenced 
forever.  But  this  day  I  open  on  all  sides  doors  of  con- 
solation, doors  of  hope,  doors  of  resurrection,  doors  of 
reunion  for  his  bereft  sons  and  daughters,  Reginald, 
and  William,  and  Percy,  and  Porter,  and  James,  and 
Charlotte,  and  Jessie,  and  for  the  Mount  Vernon  Church 
that  for  two  terms  stood  with  him  on  the  mount  of 
transfiguration,  and  for  the  denomination  which  still 


MEMORIAL  SERMON.  xxv 

vibrates  with  his  magnetic  utterances,  and  for  the 
Church  universal  which  now  sits  watching  this  wonder- 
ful sunset. 

Until  we  meet  again,  farewell,  my  dear  brother. 
Thou  wast  very  pleasant  to  me.  Thy  salutation  came  so 
late  I  could  not  return  it.  So  to-day  I  throw  thee  this 
kiss  of  warmest  brotherly  affection.  Honored  in  life, 
triumphant  in  death,  blessed  in  eternity.  I  could  not 
be  present  to  put  even  one  flower  on  thy  casket,  but 
to-day  I  sprinkle  over  thy  new-made  grave  this  hand- 
ful of  heather  from  the  Scotch  highlands,  in  the  hymn 
which  the  people  in  that  land  of  Andrew  Melville  and 
John  Knox  are  apt  to  sing  on  their  way  to  the  grave  of 
some  one  greatly  beloved  : 

Neighbor,  accept  our  parting  song, 

The  road  is  short,  the  rest  is  long ; 

The  Lord  brought  here,  the  Lord  takes  hence, 

This  is  no  house  of  permanence. 

On  bread  of  mirth  and  bread  of  tears 
The  pilgrim  fed  these  checkered  years: 
Now,  landlord  world,  shut  to  the  door, 
Thy  guest  is  gone  for  evermore. 

Gone  to  tlie  land  of  sweet  repose, 
His  comrades  bless  him  as  he  goes: 
Of  toil  and  moil  the  day  was  full, 
A  good  sleep  now,  the  night  is  cool. 

Yea,  village  bolls,  ring  softly,  ring, 
And  in  the  blessed  Sabbath  bring; 
Which  from  this  weary  work-day  tryat 
Awaits  God's  folk  through  Jesus  Christ. 


GUARD'S 

^ECTUEES  AND  ADDRESSES. 


THE  MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE  AND 
THE  BIBLE.* 

A  GLANCE  over  the  vacant  vastness  of  this  audi- 
_/!_  ence  chamber  suffices  to  remind  me  of  the  ab- 
sence, beyond  the  water,  of  the  gifted  founder  of  your 
"Monday  Lectureship."  May  he  be  preserved  from 
all  perils  while  he  travels,  and  return  from  his  wan- 
derings, laureled  with  fresh  honors,  to  the  scene  of 
his  frequent  triumphs ! 

I  am  not  here,  I  assure  you,  to  attempt  the  task 
for  which  he  proved  himself  so  signally  equipped. 
Who  but  himself  could  bend  Ulysses'  bow  ?  Never- 
theless, the  task  assigned  me  is  no  light  one.  I  have 
asked  myself,  once  and  again,  Why  was  I  not  requested 
to  compress  the  globe  into  an  ultimate  atom,  ensphere 
the  sun  in  a  dew-drop,  or  find  for  the  most  ancient 

*  Republislied  by  the  permission  of  the  Boston  Monday  Lecture- 
ship. 


14  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ocean  a  home  within  the  compass  of  a  scallop  shell  ? 
For  I  am  expected  to  discuss  the  relations  of  Chris- 
tianity to  the  mental  activities  of  our  age,  within 
the  limits  of  an  hour!  It  is  impossible!  I  shrink 
from  it.  I  cannot  exhaust  such  a  theme,  I  may  be 
permitted  to  hope,  however,  that  I  shall  prove  sug- 
gestive. 

Made  in  the  image  of  the  ever-living  One,  the 
human  mind  u  faints  not,  neither  is  weary,"  by  reason 
of  activity  ;  and  to  think,  is  to  act.  Our  age  is  peer- 
less in  the  quantity  of  intellectual  activity,  whatever 
may  be  said  of  the  quality  of  that  activity,  or  of  its 
issues.  Never  so  much  free  thought,  never  so  much 
freedom  of  thought,  as  to-day.  The  schoolmaster 
is  abroad.  The  press  is  in  untiring  operation.  The 
spirit  of  inquiry  is  ubiquitous.  History  pores  over 
coins,  cipher  correspondence,  antique  customs,  hoary 
constitutions,  dry-as-dust  scrolls,  acts  of  parliament, 
alabaster  slabs,  street  ballads,  fugitive  tracts,  diaries 
of  lettered  princesses  and  journals  of  court  favorites ; 
from  such  incongruous  material  extracting  the  sub- 
stance wherewith  to  fashion  those  imperishable  piles 
of  wisdom  with  which  our  grateful  and  instructed 
hearts  associate  the  names  of  Grote,  Mommsen, 
Merivale,  Prescott,  Motley,  Macaulay,  Bancroft,  and 
Carlyle. 

Travelers  haste  over  land  and  ocean  without  rest : 
now  plunging  into  the  wonders  of  Central  Africa, 
now  looking  down  upon  the  cradle  of  the  Nile,  now 
tracking  the  footsteps  of  the  pre-Adamite  progenitors 
of  our  race ;  to-day  resting  beneath  the  columns  of 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  15 

Luxor,  or,  two  weeks  hence,  within  the  shadows  of  the 
mined  temples,  tombs,  and  theaters  of  Petra ;  then 
treading  the  sacred  soil  and  climbing  the  sacred  slopes 
on  which  redemption's  truths  were  uttered  and  re- 
demption's price  was  paid ;  then  off  and  away  to 
the  land  where  every  dell  enshrined  a  deity,  every 
fountain  leaped  to  song — whose  breezes  floated  the 
melodies  of  Plato  or  trembled  to  the  thunder  of 
Demosthenes. 

Scientists  are  heaving  the  lead  in  deep-sea  sound- 
ings ;  foretelling  the  birth  of  the  tornado ;  weighing 
the  earth  in  scales ;  interpreting  the  hieroglyphs 
carved  on  mountain  summit  and  on  sandstone  stratum ; 
pursuing  the  comet  over  the  plains  of  ether ;  analyzing 
the  elements  of  the  light-wave  propelled  by  Sirius 
across  the  amplitudes  of  space ;  solving  the  mysteries 
that  lurk  in  frond  and  cell,  in  tinted  sea-shells  and  in 
coral  bowers ;  reckoning  up  the  ages  of  the  sun ;  de- 
fining the  orbit  of  Neptune  or  ever  its  mass  had 
crossed  the  disk  of  aided  or  unaided  eye ;  in  every 
motion  finding  an  idea,  in  every  form  a  purpose,  and 
in  every  event  the  token  of  a  plan  and  system  ; 
changing  chaos  and  confusion  into  order  and  cosmos  ; 
and,  in  the  unity  impressed  upon  and  interwoven 
through  the  vast  and  varied  whole,  beholding  the 
reflected  unity  of  Him  "by  whom  are  all  things, 
and  for  'whom  are  all  things — God  over  all,  blessed 
forever" 

And  the  results  of  such  activities  are  within  the 
reach  of  every  one  desirous  of  copious  and  accurate 
information.  With  the  sage  most  profound,  with  the 


16  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

scholar  most  erudite,  with  the  scientist  most  accom- 
plished, with  the  poet  most  subtle  minded,  with  the 
products  of  pen  and  pencil,  of  microscope  and  tele- 
scope, of  scalpel  and  prism,  the  youth  of  eager 
longing  and  quenchless  thirst  for  truth  may  hold 
communion,  by  reason  of  the  prodigious  triumphs  of 
the  printing-press. 

"What  has  Christianity  to  say  to  all  this  intellectual 
movement?  What  emotions  heave  her  bosom?  Is 
it  with  sentiments  of  envy,  jealousy,  and  fear,  or  of 
favoring  sympathy  that  she  gazes  on  the  scene  of 
seething,  surging,  struggling  spirit-life  ? 

The  study  of  her  inspired  records  and  of  her  his- 
toric chapters  affords  an  answer ;  and  in  that  answer 
we  read  amplest  assurance  of  her  friendship  and  aid. 

1.  To  the  understanding  of  man  she  ever  appealed. 
"  By  manifestation  of  the  truth  "  she  proposes  to  con- 
quer. With  a  sublime  audacity  she  ignores  physical 
force  as  an  instrument  of  victory.  "  Ye  shall  know 
the  truth,  and  the  truth  shall  make  you  free,"  were 
the  clarion  tones  which  fell  upon  the  ears  of  the  en- 
thralled victims  of  ignorance,  superstition,  priestcraft. 
Above  her  hosts,  as  they  marched  to  further  triumphs, 
her  banner  floated,  and  on  its  folds  men  read  the 
strange  device,  "  Prove  all  things,  hold  fast  that  which 
is  good."  Whenever  permitted,  she  grappled  with  the 
Jew,  and  "  reasoned  out  of  his  Scripture ;  "  with  the 
Greek,  and  argued  out  of  his  sacred  writings  of  nature, 
conscience,  history.  Upon  her  converts  she  urged  the 
noble  duty,  "  Be  always  ready  to  give  a  reason  of  the 
hope  that  is  in  you."  The  divine  Founder  of  our  faith 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  17 

gave  no  uncertain  sound  when  he  said,  "  For  this  cause 
came  I  into  the  world,  that  I  should  bear  witness  unto 
the  truth.  Every  one  that  is  of  the  truth  heareth  my 
voice."  To  Christianity  there  is  nothing  ignoble  and 
nothing  insignificant  in  aught  that  touches  or  apper- 
tains to  man.  In  her  estimate  he  is  of  more  value  than 
many  sparrows.  His  return  to  moral  sanity,  we  are 
assured,  moves  the  ranks  of  seraphim  with  strange 
joy.  For  his  eternal  weal  the  counsels  of  the  Infinite 
planned  when  as  yet  nor  light-ray  traveled,  nor  force 
electric  thrilled,  nor  mountain  soared,  nor  ocean  tossed,  } 
nor  tempest  marched,  nor  forest  waved,  nor  landscape  \ 
spread  all  dewy  and  all  fragrant  beneath  the  cloud-  \ 
less  sun.  To  nothing  human  can  Christianity  be  in-  ) 
different.  Body,  soul,  and  spirit  have  been  redeemed 
and  provided  for  by  this  divine  system.  As  the  Sab- 
bath, so  Christianity  "  is  made  for  man ; "  and  such 
is  man's  relation  thereto  that  we  may  say,  as  of  the 
sun  in  relation  to  our  planet,  "  There  is  nothing  hid 
from  the  heat  thereof."  To  all  that  is  profoundest  in 
man  the  influence  pierces ;  over  all  that  is  amplest  in 
man  the  influence  diffuses ;  and  on  all  that  is  loftiest 
in  man  her  inspiration  breathes  a  benediction.  Nor 
this  alone :  there  are  depths  of  our  nature  reached 
but  by  Christianity ;  chords  of  our  hearts  that  refuse 
their  harmonies  to  any  touch  but  hers ;  and  magnanimi- 
ties, heroisms,  martyrdoms,  in  life  and  in  death,  de- 
veloped but  by  her  plenipotence  of  holy  love  and 
blessed  hope. 

2.  Christianity  provokes  thought.     That  the  power 
of  our  holy  religion  may  be  experienced  to  the  utter- 


18  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

most,  faith  is  essential.  Faith  demands  reason  for  its 
exercise,  ;  And  to  meet  this  demand  of  our  nature 
Christianity  presents  credentials.  Belief  is  impossible, 
unless  sufficient  reason  for  belief  be  furnished.  Here, 
then,  the  scope  for  intellectual  action  appears.  What 
are  the  credentials  accompanying  Christianity  ?  Are 
they  such  in  quality  and  in  number  as  to  warrant 
our  faith  ?  The  replies  to  those  queries  are  given  in 
the  sumless  writings  called  "  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity." Certainly  these  are  products  of  thought, 
scholarship,  logic,  philosophic  investigation  and  dis- 
cussion. Certainly  these  demonstrate  the  thought- 
compelling  might  of  the  Christian  faith. 

To  a  man  possessed  of  an  honest  heart  and  quick- 
ened conscience,  a  system  of  truth  and  of  religion 
professing  to  come  from  the  Supreme  One,  with  whom 
we  have  to  do,  cannot  be  treated  with  the  slightest  ap- 
proach toward  indifference.  It  may  be  true.  If  so, 
there  is  a  duty  corresponding  to  the  bare  probability 
of  truthfulness — that  duty,  attention,  audience,  inves- 
tigation. At  once  the  mind  assumes  an  attitude  of 
earnest  wakefulness.  The  substance  of  the  message 
shall  be  weighed,  compared,  judged.  The  evidences 
attendant  upon  the  message  and  messenger  shall  win 
sober,  courteous,  brave,  and  honest  investigation. 
And  thus,  and  only  thus,  shall  the  conscience  of  the 
man  approve  of  his  conduct.  But  in  all  this  see  we  not 
the  tremendous  stimulus  imparted  to  the  intellectual 
as  well  as  the  moral  forces  of  the  soul?  Name  a 
mental  faculty  not  called  into  play  by  such  a  pro- 
fessedly divine  communication.  Memory,  compari- 


]\!EXTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  19 

son,  judgment,  imagination,  reason,  all  mental  in- 
stincts, intuitions,  affinities,  and  proclivities,  are  in 
succession,  or  combinedly,  in  utmost  vigor  of  action. 
A  crisis  in  the  intellectual  life  has  arisen.  The  man 
dates  a  new  birth,  as  a  thinker,  from  the  advent  hour 
of  such  a  system  as  our  faith.  Whether  Christianity 
made  him  a  saint,  or,  by  reason  of  his  perverse 
will  failed  in  that  great  work,  she  made  him  a  thinker. 
He  became  a  foe  of  that  which  extorted  from  him  the 
exclamation,  "  Hast  thou  found  me,  O  mine  enemy  ?  " 
And  because  a  foe,  a  thinker — irritated  into  thinking 
through  hatred  of  Christianity.  Therefore,  compose 
the  treatise  and  the  essay  to  prove  it  a  myth ;  visit 
Orient  lands  to  demonstrate  it  an  imposture ;  compile 
a  comparative  theology  to  minify  its  rank  in  the 
presence  of  other  systems !  Therefore,  see  but  its 
difficulties  and  ignore  the  possible  explanations  of  its 
seeming  contradictions  with  history  or  science !  Yet 
in  all  this  what  see  we  but  immense  intellectual  out- 
going and  energy,  scholarship,  science,  philosophic 
subtlety  and  lore,  esthetic  culture,  literary  creative- 
ness?  And  inasmuch  as  for  this  intellectual  action 
Christianity  is  responsible,  both  as  cause  and  occasion, 
do  we  behold  evidence  of  her  power  to  arouse  and 
develop  thought. 

3.  There  is  antagonism  to  Christianity  in  much  of 
the  intellectual  life  of  our  age.  This  does  not  sur- 
prise us.  It  was  to  have  been  anticipated.  No  stu- 
dent of  the  mission  of  Christianity,  at  all  familiar 
with  the  moral  condition  of  our  race,  should  feel  "  as 
though  some  strange  thing  happened  M  if  Christianity 


20  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

developed  hostility  most  bitter  in  the  very  ranks  of 
those  whom  it  came  to  woo  and  to  save. 

For  it  was  in  this  very  antagonism  to  its  Author 
that  the  need  for  such  a  system  obtained.  But  that 
man  was  a  sinner,  and  that  his  depravity  expressed 
itself  in  enmity  to  God,  Christianity  had  been  a  su- 
perfluity of  appliances  and  agencies.  Its  existence 
implies  strife,  and  its  career  hitherto  has  been  one  of 
aggrandizement  through  struggle.  Early  in  the  his- 
tory of  man  as  the  object  of  redeeming  mercy,  it 
was  announced,  •"  I  will  put  enmity  between  thy 
seed  and  her  seed."  Subsequent  ages  but  illustrated 
the  truth  of  the  announcement.  The  Founder  him- 
self gave  utterance  to  the  same  great  verity  :  "  Think 
not  that  I  am  come  to  send  peace  upon  earth  :  I  am 
not  come  to  send  peace,  but  a  sword."  The  last 
prophet  of  inspiration  depicts,  in  symbols  the  most 
sublime  and  suggestive,  the  process  of  the  struggle. 

And  to-day  the  battle  waxes  in  vehemence  of  pur- 
pose and  of  passion  ;  nor  is  there  prospect  of  speedy 
termination  of  the  conflict.  '  Possibly,  ay,  probably, 
the  future  shall  witness  scenes  of  combat,  compared 
with  which  the  fiercest  of  the  past  shall  seem  but 
gala-day  sports.  Not  with  sound  of  clarion,  or  tramp 
of  war-horse,  or  rush  of  scythed  chariot,  or  thunder 
of  ordnance,  or  with  garments  rolled  in  blood,  shall 
the  battle  rage  or  the  fight  be  fought.  The  weapons 
shall  be  of  spiritual  and  ethereal  temper  and  sub- 
stance ;  of  ore  drawn  from  the  mines  of  spirit  and 
forged  in  the  white  heat  of  passion  fires  ;  (wielded  by 
the  Titans  of  error,  or  dexterous  and  dc/ath-dealing 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  21 

by  reason  of  arms  nerved  with  divine  strength  and 
fingers  taught  to  fight  by  none  other  than  the  great 
Captain  of.  the  hosts  of  light  himself. 

Nor  shall  the  struggle  close  until  all  the  foes'  re-[ 
sources  shall  have  been  drawn  upon,  applied,  tested.] 
Not  until  the  last  form  and  method  of  resistance  to 
good  shall  have  had  scope  for  their  endeavors  and 
time  for  their  display  of  skill  and  might,  and  shall 
have  proved  as  impotent  as  are  the  birds  of  night  to 
hinder  the  return  of  the  daybreak  and  the  noontide 
splendor  of  the  regal  sun — not  until  then  shall  dis- 
comfiture cover  the  emissaries  of  falsehood,  and  a 
ransomed  world  enter  into  "  quietness  and  assurance 
forever."  And  fear  not,  ye  who  read  the  times,  and 
whose  hearts  sometimes  fail !  For  He  must  reign 
until  he  hath  put  down  all  that  exalteth  itself  against 
him.  "And  when  he  shall  have  put  down  all  rule 
and  all  authority,  then  cometh  the  end." 

We  confess  our  delight  in  this  aspect  of  the  age. 
Nothing  is  more  to  be  deprecated  than  intellectual 
stolidity,  than  uninquiring  acceptance  of  the  Chris- 
tian faith.  This  is  a  state  not  to  be  permitted,  not  to 
be  tolerated.  Better  strife  than  stupor.  Christianity 
can  never  win  her  way  but  as  she  compels  or  con- 
strains men  into  moods  of  investigation.  She  courts 
this.  It  is  essential  to  her  very  existence.  She  is 
willing  to  take  all  the  risl™  arising  from  the  awaken- 
ing of  thought  and  the  scrutiny  of  thinkers.  Doubt 
may  challenge  her,  skepticism  may  assail  her.  Slie 
welcomes  the  Jtotx-xf  doubter;  she  disdains  not  to  de- 
bate with  him  who,  fearlessly  searching  after  the  true, 


22  GUARL  s  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

sees  not  as  yet  evidence  sufficient  to  warrant  liis  assent 
and  affiance.  With  tenderest  solicitude  she  waits 
upon  and  ministers  to  such.  Priests  may  scowl  upon 
them,  and  churches  threaten  them  with  terror ;  but 
not  so  Christianity.  Over  the  tortured  toiler  after 
truth  she  bends,  with  infinite  compassion  in  her  eye 
and  solace  on  her  lip  ;  bares  her  bosom,  and  invites 
to  shelter  and  repose  there :  "  Come  unto  me,  all 
— all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest."  To  the  Master's  treatment  of  Thomas 
Christianity  points  the  bewildered,  wondering  doubt- 
ers of  all  ages,  as  to  Simon  Peter  and  his  Lord's  treat- 
ment of  the  recreant  apostle  she  points  the  penitent 
though  desponding  gaze  of  all  who,  under  dreadful 
pressure,  proved  traitors  to  their  divine  Master's  name 
and  cause  ;  and  in  his  treatment  of  both  proves  that 
"  Wisdom  is  justified  of  her  children." 

4.  The  action  of  Christianity  through  the  laws  of 
heredity  deserves  recognition  and  appreciation.  Those 
laws  have  their  expounders  and  illustrators  in  Gal  ton 
and  Ribot,  in  Herbert  Spencer,  Darwin,  and  Bain. 
Darwin's  "  Descent  of  Man  "  is  almost  altogether  de- 
pendent upon  the  factor  of  heredity.  .It  is  no  less 
potent  in  the  philosophy  of  Spencer.  By  this  "  he- 
redity "  principle,  "  like  produces  like."  Sometimes, 
indeed,  "  like "  seems  capable  of  producing  very 
"  unlike  ; "  but  it  is  only  seemingly  so.  The  new- 
born immortal  is,  therefore,  "  the  very  image  of  his 
father,"  be  the  fact  nattering  to  the  parent  or  other- 
wise. Physical  characteristics  are  thus  transmissible. 
The  past  can  be  reproduced.  Nothing  is  lost  that  can 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  23 

serve  the  interests  of  the  organization.  Tendencies 
are  "fixed,"  vicious  proclivities  descend,  and  disease 
becomes  a  legacy.  Should  "  variety,"  by  some  in- 
scrutable law,  be  introduced,  and  should  that  variety 
tend  to  secure  the  survival  of  the  fittest,  heredity 
seizes  it,  incorporates  it,  and  secures  its  perpetuity 
through  successive  generations.  The  law  of  continu- 
ity sways  it.  To  it,  we  are  told,  species  owe  their 
origin  ;  and  through  it,  we  are  assured,  man  has  de- 
rived his  finest  sensibilities  and  his  loftiest  sentiments. 
From  the  dull  oyster  through  the  stupid  donkey,  up, 
still  up,  the  germ  of  the  coming  man  has  never  failed 
persistently  to  press,  until  at  last  the  progression 
culminates  in  the  creature  whose  initial  condition 
proclaims  him  a  little  higher  than  the  "  missing  link," 
and  whose perfectional  condition  shall  proclaim  him  j 
"  a  little  lower  than  the  angels."  There  is  no  doubt  I 
that  according  to  the  laws  of  heredity  the  Eternal 
One  has  seen  fit  to  act.  The  presence  of  the  princi- 
ple was  not  discovered  yesterday.  Jacob,  in  the  days 
of  his  service  between  the  rivers,  caught  sight  of  it 
and  utilized  it.  To-day  we  have  multiplied  proof  in 
its  favor,  and  are  not  in  extreme  danger  of  de- 
preciating its  potency  as  an  element  in  our  civ- 
ilization. 

Has  not  Christianity  availed  herself  of  this  subtile 
force?  Are  we  not  justified  in  attributing  to  her 
incalculable  influence  upon  the  mental  capacity  of  our 
age  along  the  lines  of  this  authenticated  principle 
of  our  complex  being  \  For  eighteen  hundred  years 
has  Christianity  been  working  on,  working  with, 


24  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

working  through,  humanity.  The  physical  nature  of 
the  race  has  thus  been  improved,  and  the  moral  nature 
has  participated  in  the  ennobling  effects  ;  why  not  the 
intellectual  ?  Why  not  the  mental  aptitudes — why  not 
the  affinities  with,  the  capacity  for,  intellectual  pur- 
suits and  attainments,  ameliorated,  strengthened,  re- 
fined, by  reason  of  the  action  and  interaction  of  the 
manifold  appliances  of  Christianity? 

The  greatest  thinkers  of  our  day  (even  when  far 
other  than  the  friends  of  our  faith)  are  her  legitimate 
intellectual  offspring.  John  Stuart  Mill  came  of 
Scottish  Presbyterian  ancestry.  George  Eliot  de- 
scended from  Christian  parents,  and  grew  up  amid 
Christian  influences.  Christianity  flowered  in  the 
genius  of  Walter' Scott,  and  fruitens  in  the  products 
of  George  Macdonald  and  William  Black  ;  perme- 
ated the  being  of  Macaulay,  and  possessed  the  soul  of 
Thomas  Carlyle ;  inspired  the  splendid  intellect  of 
Sir  William  Hamilton,  glowed  in  the  poetic  fires  of 
Hugh  Miller,  and  adorns  the  sanctified  learning  of 
our  President  M'Cosh.  Professor  J.  W.  Draper  is 
the  son  of  an  English  Wesleyan  minister,  and  prob- 
ably shared  in  the  thorough  training  of  a  Wesleyan 
college,  either  as  a  "  Woodhouse-Grove  "  or  "  Kings- 
wood  "  boy.  Your  own  Charming — calm,  clear,  com- 
prehensive ;  the  philosopher,  the  humanitarian  ;  gen- 
tle as  he  was  strong,  and  steeped  both  in  "  sweetness 
and  light " — owed  he  not  his  intellectual  manhood  to 
Christianity  ?  Theodore  Parker,  the  vehement  icon- 
oclast, the  intense  hater  of  injustice ;  masculine  in 
thought  as  poetic  in  sympathy  and  in  imagination  ; 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  25 

lie  who  speaks  of  the  "  iris  that  scarfs  the  shoul- 
der of  the  thunder-cloud" — did  not  he  inherit  thei 
vigor  of  his  mind  and  the  energy  of  his  athletic 
Spiritual  nature  from  Puritan  forefathers  ?  And  so 
of  that  other,  upon  whose  head  the  snows  of  time  are 
gathering,  but  all  impotent  to  quench  the  fires  of  his 
transcendent  genius ;  the  old  man  eloquent ;  the  clair- 
voyant of  Concord  ;  the  high  dreamer  whose  thoughts 
live,  move,  and  have  their  being  in  the  world  of  men 
around  you  ;  whose  weird  skill  oft  wove  for  him 
webs  of  gossamer,  and  of  these  fashioned  chariots  in 
which  to  float  away  and  away  into  realms  ethereal, 
whither  the  tempests  of  life  had  not  wing  to  follow 
— is  not  he  the  intellectual  culmination  of  generations 
of  ancestors  in  the  Christian  faith  and  in  the  Chris- 
tian ministry  2  The  roots  of  these  men's  mental  be- 
ing are  all  in  Christian  soil,  and  thence  drew  nour- 
ishment and  flavor.  The  tree-like  life  of  these  think- 
ers expanded  in  atmosphere  surcharged  with  Chris- 
tian ideas.  Their  ample  and  loaded  branches  ripened 
into  tropic  fullness  in  the  solar  floods  of  Christian 
culture  and  civilization  ;  and  I  am  not  extravagant 
or  unjust  in  pointing  to  them  as  splendid  evidences 
of  the  power  of  our  faith  as  the  generator  of  intellect- 
ual life  and  activity. 

Science  tells  me  that  all  terrestrial  light  is  from  the 
sun,  and  that,  though  absent,  the  sun  is  still  our  light 
by  night,  be  that  night  brief  as  midsummer's  or  pro- 
longed as  the  six  months'  gloom  of  Arctic  zones — 
light  of  pine-torch  and  of  fire-fly,  light  of  waxen 
taper  and  of  oil  and  gas  lamp,  light  upon  ocean's 


26  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

phosphorescent  wave,  and  light  of  moonbeams  braid- 
ing Niagara's  brow  with  iridescent  wreath.  Directly 
and  indirectly,  the  sun  is  the  light  of  the  world. 
And  I  dare  assert  the  same  of  Christianity  and  the  in- 
tellectual world  of  our  age.  I  have  tested  this  in 
imagination  by  conceiving  the  annihilation  of  that 
Book,  so  indissolubly,  so  essentially  associated  with 
Christianity.  The  Bible  triumphs  when  and  where 
Christianity  triumphs.  Let  me  be  permitted  to  sup- 
pose somewhat,  at  least,  of  an  approach  toward  the 
utter  destruction  of  the  Book.  First,  copies  of  the 
volume  itself,  in  all  shapes  and  sizes,  in  all  tongues 
and  versions,  shall  have  been  collected,  heaped  into 
pyramidal  piles,  and  fired,  until  but  dust  and  ashes 
remain.  ~No  Bible  anywhere !  This  is  but  a  very 
little  thing,  however,  compared  with  that  to  be  ac- 
complished. Then  all  literature — prose,  poetic,  tome 
and  folio,  essay  and  sermon,  drama  and  lyric,  hymn 
and  idyl — must  be  subjected  to  a  process  either  of 
utter  destruction  or  of  perfect,  absolutely  perfect,  ex- 
purgation, so  that  no  grace  of  style,  nor  elegance  of 
allusion,  nor  aptness  of  quotation,  nor  felicity  of  meta- 
phor, suggestive  of  or  derived  from  the  Book,  shall 
remain  in  such  volumes.  Then  visit  the  galleries, 
private  and  public,  devoted  to  the  exhibition  of  art. 
Here  are  walls  frescoed  with  the  products  of  old  mas- 
ters and  new ;  here  are  pedestals  and  niches  crowned 
and  crowded  with  the  triumphs  of  the  chisel  and  the 
sculptor.  Blot  from  that  canvas  the  Last  Supper, 
the  Transfiguration,  the  Ascension,  the  Light  of  the 
World;  pluck  from  that  pedestal  and  from  yonder 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  27 

niches  the  Moses  and  the  David  of  Angelo,  or  such 
forms  and  expressions  of  majesty,  tenderness,  purity, 
and  grace  as  their  creators  learned  and  caught  from 
study  of  the  teachings,  or  fellowship  with  the  heroes 
of  the  Book.  Then  haste  to  the  baptismal  registries 
of  the  Church,  and  instead  of  Mary,  write  Cleopatra ; 
of  Rachel,  Messalina ;  of  John,  Nero  ;  and  of  Peter, 
Caligula.  Erase  whatever  there  reminds  one  of  the 
Bible. 

Then  on  to  the  libraries  of  law,  and  let  all  codes, 
statutes,  enactments,  constitutions,  in  which  shall 
be  found  reverence  for  God,  respect  for  liberty, 
protection  for  reputation,  life,  and  person,  defense  of 
woman  and  of  feebleness,  and  guarantee  of  equal  and 
impartial  justice  for  meanest  plebeian  as  for  meanest 
plutocrat;  let  all  such  as  owe  their  humanity,  their 
justice,  their  impartiality,  to  the  genius  and  the  teach- 
ings of  the  Book,  vanish  and  be  forgotten.  Then, 
away  to  the  cemeteries,  urban  and  suburban,  civic  and 
rustic ;  to  the  crypts  and  vaults ;  to  the  stately  min- 
ster and  to  the  humble  chapel,  where  sleep  the  dead, 
and  on  whose  tombs  Hope,  Faith,  and  Love  have 
carved  the  blessed  texts  in  which  the  widow  found  a 
calm  and  the  despairing  consolation.  See,  see !  'Tis 
a  November  midnight.  Nor  star  nor  moon  rides  the 
cloud-draped  heavens.  No  light,  save  the  fitful  flash 
from  yonder  moving  form.  That  is  one  of  the  myr- 
iad conspirators  against  the  human  race,  who  on  this 
grim  night  simultaneously  visit  the  graveyards  of  the 
Christian  world,  that  from  the  slab  and  obelisk  they 
may  blot  out  the  Bible.  See  !  he  bends,  and  with 


28  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

light  of  lantern  reads  :  "  I  am  the  resurrection  and  the 
life ;  "  "  Blessed  are  the  dead  ;  "  "  In  my  Father's 
house  are  many  mansions."  Now  he  seizes  chisel  and 
mallet,  and  begins.  Chip  !  chip !  chip !  The  lone 
night-winds  as  they  travel  o'er  the  spot  take  up  upon 
their  dusky  wings  a  burden  sadder  than  they  ever 
bore,  the  sob,  the  sigh,  the  low-toned  throb  of  heart- 
chords  snapping ;  for,  henceforth,  the  chamber  of  the 
dying  shall  be  one  of  horrors,  death's  rule  a  "  reign  of 
terror,"  and  the  graveyard  "  the  abomination  of  deso- 
lation." 

I  need  not  imagine  more,  though"  the  half  is  not 
yet  pictured ;  for  the  fruits  of  Christianity  in  man- 
ners, in  civilization,  in  treatment  of  criminals  and 
of  the  insane ;  in  homes  for  age,  for  orphans,  for 
widows,  for  idiots,  for  outcast  women ;  in  popular  ed- 
ucation, and  in  kindred  generous  and  gracious  insti- 
tutions, these  all  must  also  suffer  destruction  before 
we  shall  have  by  any  means  attained  unto  the  exter- 
mination of  either  the  Book  or  the  Faith. 

5.  Is  the  mission  of  Christianity  a  superfluity  by 
reason  of  the  results  of  our  intellectual  age?  Let 
human  nature,  let  man,  reply.  Is  there  any  change 
such  as  to  render  the  further  existence  of  our  faith 
unnecessary?  As  generation  after  generation  arises, 
see  we  not  the  past  repeated  ?  Hear  we  not  the  same 
queries  voiced  by  human  hearts,  human  memories, 
human  consciences  ?  Amid  vast  changes,  if  we  go  deep 
enough,  shall  we  not  find  man  unchanged  ? 

(1.)  Listen  to  the  old.  old  question,  and  know  that 
it  is  prompted  by  something  in  man  other  than  acci- 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  29 

dental  in  condition  or  circumstances.  It  is  the  ques- 
tion of  "  a  conscience  of  sins,"  a  sense  of  wrong-doing, 
and  of  guilt  arising  thence.  You  cannot  bid  down, 
so  as  to  keep  down,  that  question :  "  How  can  man  be 
just  with  his  Maker  f  "  A  homely  question^  indeed]"" 
ay^oW  one  that  can  with  earthquake  might  thrill 
the  whole  inner  man,  and  in  answering  which  man 
has  steeped  the  earth  in  -blood,  bleached  it  with  bones 
of  weary  pilgrims,  and  wrapped  it  in  smoke  of  count- 
less sacrificial  altars.  It  must  be  answered.  What 
hath  modem  science  to  say  in  response?  Nothing 
that  commands  for  one  moment  the  acceptance  of  in- 
telligent conscience.  What  has  matter,  as  it  rolls 
through  space ;  marbles,  though  veined  with  beauty ; 
gems,  though  aglow  with  fiery  splendor;  corals, 
though  fashioned  after  the  similitude  of  a  palace ;  life,  , 
death,  force,  what  have  they  to  do  with  a  query 
sighed  forth  by  a  self-conscious  and  self-convicted 
spirit?  u'Tis  not  in  us,"  the  solemn  heights  reply. 
"  'Tis  not  in  us,"  the  dark,  mysterious  caves  of  earth 
respond.  Christianity  has  proven  her  power  to  meet 
the  need.  She  owns  that  power  to-day. 

(2.)  And  there  is  the  demand  for  inner  rectification 
of  nature.  There  is  a  deep-seated  sore  within.  The 
ideal  of  right  is  there.  The  endeavor  to  realize  it  is 
made,  but  the  failure  is  total.  And  this  involves  con- 
flict the  most  stern  and  anguish  the  most  bitter. 
"  When  I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me ;  the 
evil  I  would  not,  that  I  do."  I  pay  a  visit  to  the 
sages  of  physical  and  of  transcendental  wisdom,  and 
with  impassioned  earnestness  ask  of  their  chief, 


30  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Can'st  them  not  minister  to  a  mind  diseased, 
Pluck  from  the  memory  a  rooted  sorrow, 
Eaze  out  the  written  troubles  of  the  brain, 
And  by  some  sweet  oblivious  antidote 
Cleanse  the  stuffed  bosom  of  the  perilous  stuff, 
Which  weighs  upon  the  heart  ? 

- 

Perhaps  he  will  tell  me  that  sin  is  a  necessary  stage 
in  my  moral  development ;  and  that  wherever  man 
is — in  the  brothel,  in  the  gin-mill,  on  the  gallows — he 
is  on  the  way  to  God ;  and  that  the  only  possible 
error  that  can  arise  is  this,  that  by  lack  of  effort 
the  man  remains  a  little  longer  than  he  might  in 
either  one  of  the  above-named  localities.  From  such 
my  inner  being  turns,  as  it  utters,  "Miserable  com- 
forters are  ye  all ! "  Christianity  meets  the  want.  It 
offers,  and  it  has — yes,  it  has  effected  thorough  renewal 
of  the  "  hidden  man  of  the  heart."  It  has  brought 
a  clean  thing  out  of  an  unclean.  It  is  doing  so  to-day : 
in  some  one  spot  of  this  old  globe,  day  by  day,  it  is 
transforming  and  emancipating  and  harmonizing  the 
inner  principles  and  powers  of  man  ;  for  it  is  the  power 
of  God  unto  salvation  to  every  one  that  believeth. 

(3.)  And  man  asks — as  he  looks  up  into  the  vastness 
of  creation,  and  round  upon  the  strangely  checkered 
aspect  of  life,  and  on  through  the  dim,  trackless  fu- 
ture ;  when  woes  fill  his  cup  of  life,  and  disaster 
crashes  upon  disaster,  and  helplessness  is  the  o'ermas- 
tering  feeling  of  his  sinking  heart — Is  there  One  above 
all  others  to  whom  I  may  carry  my  load,  pour  forth 
my  tale  of  desolation  ?  Or  is  it  indeed  true  that  he 
heeds  not,  neither  can  help— as  helpless  as 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGE.  31 

The  gods  who  haunt 
Tlie  lucid  interspace  of  world  and  world, 
Where  never  creeps  a  cloud,  or  moves  a  wind, 
Nor  ever  falls  the  least  white  star  of  snow, 
Nor  ever  lowest  roll  of  thunder  moans, 
Nor  sound  of  human  sorrow  mounts  to  mar 
Their  sacred,  everlasting  calm  ! 

Vain  to  lead  me  to  "  an  altar  with  this  inscription, 
'  To  an  unknown  God.' ':  Ay,  and  as  vain  to  tell 
me  of  a  "  power  that  makes  for  righteousness."  I 
want  "  the  living  God."  I  am  a  person,  and  my  God 
must  be  a  person.  Out  of  the  light,  ye  sages,  Spen- 
cer, Arnold !  Let  me  to  His  side  in  whom  resides  wis- 
dom at  least  as  great  as  yours,  that  in  answer  to  my 
heart's  longing  cry,  "  Show  me  the  Father !  "  I  may 
from  his  own  lips  catch  the  words  of  strength  and 
solace  :  "  He  that  hath  seen  Me  hath  seen  the  Father." 

(4.)  And,  once  again,  man  asks  for  light.  It  is  as 
he  sits  yonder  in  darkened  chamber  beside  his  dead. 
To  her,  in  youth's  jocund  days,  his  heart  went  out, 
and  round  here  twined  its  tendrils.  They  were  lovely 
and  beautiful  as  they  grew  in  wisdom,  confidence,  and 
love.  But  the  ruthless  blast  swept  o'er  her,  and  in 
the  very  pride  of  motherhood  she  gave  up  the  ghost : 
her  sun  went  down  while  it  was  yet  noon.  And  soon 
he  must  "  bury  his  dead  out  of  his  sight."  What  is 
thy  mission  and  what  thy  meaning,  O  Death?  Dost 
thou,  indeed,  end  all  ?  or  through  thee  pass  we  back 
again,  as  raindrops,  into  the  vast  immensity  of  THE 
ALL — individuality,  personality,  forever  lost  ?  or  shall 
we  live  again  ?  It  is  not  sentimentalism  that  thus 
speaks.  Strongest  minds  have  heaved  the  lead  in  these 


32  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDKESSES". 

mysterious  depths.  Mightiest  hearts  have  quaked 
with  strange  terror  in  presence  of  these  problems.  He 
who  is  Christianity  himself  replies.  In  word  he  an- 
swered ;  better  far,  in  work  he  responded ;  best  of 
all,  in  his  own  person  he  grappled  with,  wrested  the 
scepter  from,  the  king  of  terrors,  and  o'er  his  prostrate 
form  marched  forth  from  death's  dominion  with  the 
note  of  triumph  on  his  lip:  "I  am  the  resurrection 
and  the  life."  "  He  brought  back,  not  the  shadow, 
but  the  substance  of  immortal  man,"  as  said  Robert 
Hall.  "  For  now  is  Christ  risen  from  the  dead,  and 
become  the  first-fruits  of  them  that  sleep." 

Friends,  these  are  the  truisms  of  our  faith.  Through 
these,  attended  by  the  grace  of  the  Lord  and  Giver  of 
life,  Christianity  hath  won  her  way  hitherto.  Nor 
is  there  trace  of  feebleness  or  of  age  in  her  fair  form 
to-day,  nor  hectic  flush  on  her  cheek,  nor  halt  in  her 
gait,  nor  haze  in  her  eye.  She  is  mighty  as  when  she 
went  forth  to  vanquish  the  Vandal,  civilize  the  Celt, 
hallow  the  Hun,  gather  in  the  Goth,  and  win  the  wor- 
shipers of  Woden  from  the  fierceness  of  their  temple 
worship  and  their  forest  sports.  She  is  entering  new 
regions,  and  intends  to  conquer ;  and  they  feel  this, 
and  are  troubled.  Hoary  creeds  and  gory  supersti- 
tions tremble  at  her  approach.  She  comes  to  make 
men  think,  and  thus  to  overturn.  Revolutionist,  in- 
deed, she  is !  Monopoly  of  power,  of  thought,  of  joy 
in  life,  she  comes  to  overturn.  Her  mission  is  race 
wide  and  is  full  of  mercy,  without  partiality  and  with- 
out hypocrisy ;  knowing  no  man  after  the  flesh,  nor 
giving  flattering  titles  unto  any ;  her  smile  is  hope, 


MENTAL  ACTIVITIES  OF  THE  AGP:.  33 

her  presence  a  benediction.  Judging  from  former 
victories,  and  studying  her  in  the  light  of  prophecy, 
we  look  forward  with  assured  confidence  of  ultimate, 
universal  supremacy.  Her  Head  "ascended  that  he 
might  fill  all  things"  And  he  is  achieving  his  in- 
tent. His  ideas,  principles,  are  silently  but  surely 
permeating  society — in  commerce,  honesty ;  in  law, 
justice;  in  government,  liberty;  in  art,  purity;  in 
society,  gentleness,  tenderness,  mutual  helpfulness, 
world- wide  charity.  As  she  advances  in  her  career, 

Flowers  laugh  before  her  on  their  beds, 
And  fragrance  in  her  footing  treads : 

for 

She  doth  wear 

The  Godhead's  most  benignant  grace; 
Nor  know  we  any  thing  so  f;iir 
As  is  the  smile  upon  her  face. 

With  full  assurance  of  faith  we  anticipate  the  time 
when  through  her  influences  her  Founder  shall  fulfill 
the  glowing  prophecy,  "  And  on  his  head  were  many 
crowns."  I  see  the  grand  procession  gathering  to  the 
coronation.  Yonder  are  Herschel  and  Kepler  and 
Copernicus  and  Galileo,  at  the  head  of  the  astronomic 
pages.  They  draw  nigh  to  crown  him ;  and  as  he 
stoops  to  receive  the  gift  I  hear  them  exclaim  :  "  The 
heavens  are  the  work  of  thy  hands,  the  moon  and  thfi 
stars  which  thou  hast  ordained."  And  yonder  I  see 
the  great  chiefs  of  geologic  science,  and  their  sumless 
followers :  there  are  Hugh  Miller  and  Buckland  and 
Dana ;  and  as  he  stoops  to  receive  their  offering  thus 
they  declare :  "  Of  old  didst  thou  lay  the  foundations 


3i  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

of  the  earth ;  the  strength  of  the  hills  is  thine  also." 
And,  see,  yonder  the  great  old  masters  lead  up  their 
ranks — Angelico,  Angelo,  Da  Vinci ;  and  as  they  pre- 
sent their  tribute,  I  hear  them  say  :  "Blessed  are  our 
eyes,  for  we  have  seen  the  King  in  his  beauty."  And 
there  is  another,  surpassing  far  all  these  in  power  to 
touch  his  heart.  It  is  woman,  "redeemed,  regener- 
ated, disenthralled  "  woman ;  and  at  the  head  of  the 
illustrious  throng  there  is  the  first  mother  of  us  all, 
and  by  her  side  his  own.  To  them  he  stoops — is 
there  not  haze  in  his  eye?— and  as  their  gentle  hands 
place  in  his  their  choicest  diadem,  thus  they  exclaim : 
"  When  thou  tookest  upon  thee  to  deliver  man,  thou 
didst  not  abhor  the  virgin's  womb."  It  is  enough. 
Let  us  conclude  by  chanting,  in  harmony  with  such  a 
prospect, 

All  hail  the  power  of  Jesus'  name  I 

Let  angels  prostrate  full ; 
Bring  forth  the  royal  diadem, 

And  crown  him  Lord  of  alL 


LIBRARY."  35 


II. 
"  OUR  LIBRARY."* 

T  CONGRATULATE  the  friends  of  this  Institution 
_L  upon  the  success  which  has  marked  the  past  year, 
and  most  sincerely  do  I  pray  that  the  coming  year 
may  prove  the  permanency  of  the  revived  interest 
taken  in  "  Our  Library."  In  choosing  the  theme  an- 
nounced for  this  evening's  address,  it  is  not  from  the 
slightest  belief  that  it  can  receive  from  me  the  treat- 
ment to  which  it  is  justly  entitled ;  for  no  one  here 
can  be  more  alive  than  am  I  to  the  wealth  and  splen- 
dor of  the  literary  realms  included  in  such  a  topic  as 
"  Our  Library."  If  my  address  have  any  merit,  that 
consists  in  its  suggestiveness ;  and  if  it  have  any  spe- 
cial claim  upon  your  acceptance,  that  shall  rest  upon 
the  heartiness  with  which  it  is  offered  as  an  expres- 
sion of  my  desire  to  aid  in  any  effort  the  aim  of  which 
is  the  mental  recreation  and  moral  advance  of  our 
community.  The  subject  chosen  gives  an  opportunity 
for  stringing  together  a  few  thoughts  respecting  books 
and  their  readers,  what  and  how  to  read ;  the  relation 
existing  between  mind  and  books ;  and  our  obligations 
to  those  who  have  transmitted  through  their  writings 
their  life  thoughts  to  us  and  to  all  succeeding  genera- 
tions. 

*  A   lecture   delivered  on  behalf  of   the  Graham's  TOWM  (South 
Africa)  Public  Library  on  Oct.  3,  1864. 

4 


36  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

The  relation  which  books  sustain  to  the  human  mind 
must  be  the  first  thought  suggested  by  "  Our  Library." 
Books  supply  the  mind  with  material  for  thought. 
They  are  a  necessity.  As  the  mind  is  constituted  it 
comes  into  existence  with  capacities,  forms  of  thought, 
and  laws  of  mental  action.  Its  great  sources  of  knowl- 
edge are  twofold  :  observation  through  the  senses,  and 
reflection  upon  the  sensations  awakened  and  the  facts 
obtained  through  observation.  Sensation  and  reflec- 
tion are  the  two  chief  fountains  of  ideas.  The  mind  is 
qualified  to  receive  from  without,  and  fitted  to  elab- 
orate, from  what  is  thus  received,  systems  and  sciences 
in  accordance  with  the  immutable  laws  of  its  own  con- 
stitution and  the  equally  immutable  laws  of  the  outer 
world.  That  the  mind  may  work,  it  must  have  ma- 
terial on  which  to  work.  If  it  grow,  it  must  have 
food  on  which  to  banquet.  If  the  mind  be  a  field,  it 
must  have  seed  with  which  to  sow  it.  If  it  be  an 
artist's  studio,  it  must  have  the  block  from  which  to 
strike  out  its  statues  and  images,  whose  combined 
beauties  call  forth  portraitures  of  all  that  can  subli. 
mate  the  taste,  enchant  the  heart,  and  purify  the 
life.  If  the  mind  may  be  compared  to  a  silkworm, 
then  books  are  its  mulberry  leaves,  and  "  Our  Li- 
brary "  a  mulberry  grove  whereon,  feeding,  the  work- 
ing spirit  may  coil  its  cocoons  and  spin  its  silk ;  or  if 
the  mind  may  be  deemed  a  manufactory,  then  books 
are  the  silkworm  cocoons,  with  whose  countless  threads 
the  mind-loom  may  weave  its  tapestry  of  poesy,  of 
narrative,  of  history,  or  romance.  Or  if  tl  e  mind  be 
a  builder  and  architect,  then  books  supply  the  stones 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  37 

from  which  to  fashion  a  palace-temple  within  the 
spirit,  truthfully  transparent  as  a  Crystal  Palace,  lux- 
uriantly lovely  as  an  Alhambra,  and  beautifully  holy 
as  Zion's  sacred  and  God-honored  fane.  A  palace 
and  shrine  like  that  of  which  the  gifted  but  erring 
genius  sang : 

In  the  greenest  of  our  valleys,  by  good  angels  tenanted, 

Once  a  fair  and  steady  palace,  radiant  palace,  reared  its  head. 

In  the  monarch  Thought's  dominion  it  stood  there ; 

Never  seraph  spread  a  pinion  over  fabric  half  so  fair ! 

Banners — yellow,  glorious,  golden — on  its  roof  did  float  and  glow. 

This,  all  this,  was  in  the  olden  time — Long  ago; 

And  every  gentle  air  that  dallied  in  that  sweet  day, 

Along  the  ramparts,  plumed  and  pallid — a  winged  odor  went  away. 

Wanderers  in  that  happy  valley,  through  two  luminous  windows  saw 

Spirits  moving  musically,  to  a  lute's  well-tuned  law ; 

And  all  witli  pearl  and  ruby  glowing  was  the  fair  palace  door 

Through  wliicli  came  Mowing,  flowing,  and  sparkling  evermore, 

A  troop  of  Echoes,  whose  sweet  duty  was  but  to  sing, 

In  voices  of  surpassing  beauty,  the  wit  and  wisdom  of  their  King. 

Books  are  useless  unless  they  provoke  and  stimulate 
thought.  They  give  material  for  thought,  for  think- 
ing. But  of  what  good,  what  use,  what  bliss,  unless 
we  think  ?  Books  were  not  written  that  we  might 
think  by  proxy.  The  writers  never  dreamed  of  sav- 
ing their  readers  the  trouble  of  thinking.  They  should 
have  felt  saddened  at  the  thought  of  such  abuse  of 
their  labors  and  creations.  They  were  sustained  in 
their  arduous,  toilsome  pleasure  of  conceiving  and 
composing  their  productions  by  the  knowledge  of  the 
fitness  of  their  writings  to  generate  ideas  in  future 
minds.  Proportioned  to  the  number  of  the  ideas  they 
felt  they  were  capable  of  evoking  did  they  exult  in 


38  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

their  lamplight  cogitations,  and  count  it  all  joy  to  plod 
along  the  steep  and  flinty  cliffs  of  literary  discovery 
and  conquest.  Books  are  valueless  if,  with  all  their 
pregnant  forces,  they  elicit  no  reproductive  results 
within  your  spirit.  They  look  for  their  own  ideas, 
but  with  usury.  They  hold  you  responsible  for  the 
multiplication  by  your  own  exercise  of  mind  of  the 
original  dowry  they  bestow.  They  would  have  you 
put  their  thoughts  into  the  bank  of  your  meditation, 
and  into  the  exchequers  of  your  manifold  thinking 
faculties,  fancy,  attention,  judgment,  and  analysis. 
Failing  in  this,  they,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned,  exist 
in  vain.  That  is  the  most  valuable  book  which  con- 
tains the  greatest  number  of  the  greatest  ideas ;  and 
that  book  which  has  enkindled  the  strongest  and  stead- 
iest flame  of  independent  and  truthful  thinking  is  to 
the  reader  thereof  the  most  estimable  volume. 

True,  thinking  in  reading  is  but  co-operative  labor. 
The  best  author  is  he  who  enlists  the  deepest  sympathy 
of  his  reader,  and  obtains  the  heartiest  mental  .con- 
verse with  him.  The  book  should  be 'read  somewhat 
as  we  would  converse  with  its  author.  We  shall  listen 
to  him,  we  shall  question  him,  we  shall  suggest  to 
him,  we  shall  contradict  him,  we  shall  supplement 
him,  and  we  shall  bring  our  personal  contribution  of 
knowledge  to  illustrate,  confirm,  or  enlarge  his  offer- 
ing. So  shall  we  reap  the  wealthiest  return  from  both 
the  talker  and  the  author. 

That  book  is  most  valued  which  most  frequently 
compels  the  reader  to  shut  it,  and  shut  his  eyes  and 
his  ears  as  well,  while  in  meditative  posture,  and  in  a 


"OuE  LIBRARY."  39 

very  raptnre  of  wonder  and  delight,  the  roused  and 
stimulated  soul  traverses  the  new  light-bathed  fields 
of  earth  and  vaults  of  heaven,  called  out  of  gloom 
and  non-existence  into  veritable  loveliness  by  the 
touch  of  some  thought-wand,  as  wielded  by  regal  and 
cultured  genius. 

The  best  book  invariably  tasks  the  reader,  challen- 
ges liis  attention,  and  calls  out  his  force  of  concentrated 
application.  The  best  book  demands,  as  I  have  said, 
the  action  of  the  law  of  division  and  co-operation  of 
labor,  and  having  performed  a  certain  amount  of 
thinking  leaves  a  margin  for  the  exercise  of  the  read- 
er's powers.  It  hints,  and  tempts  us  to  unfold  the 
hint.  It  throws  up  a  thought,  and  points  to  the  hiding-, 
place  of  ore,  and  dares  us  to  the  work  of  exploration. 
It  moves  in  a  region  higher  than  our  own,  but  to  which 
it  beckons  us,  and  helps  us  as  we  strive  with  it.  It 
moves  the  object  into  hazy  visions,  and  bids  us,  by  the 
force  of  our  study,  breathe  on  and  disperse  the  mist 
which  folds  it,  and  heave  it  into  luminous  distinctness  • 
and  measurable  orbit. 

Thinking  is  to  truth  what  digestion  is  to  food. 
Without  the  former  you  might  as  well  hope  to  add 
mental  power,  or  multiply  intellectual  manhood,  as 
without  the  latter  build  up  your  wasted  body  and  knit 
your  loosely  hung  bony  fabric,  or  nervous  structure, 
into  vigorous  and  graceful  elasticity.     To  aid  in  thisf 
it  were  well  to  have  a  companion  with  whom  to  con- 1 
verse.    The  act  of  communicating  invariably  augments/ 
the  original  strength  of  the  mind.     Xor  this  alone — 
it  must  insensibly,  even  with  the  lowest  order  of  mind, 


40  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

develop  some  measure  of  its  creative  ability.  It  aids 
in  mastication ;  it  helps  in  digestion ;  it  facilitates  an 
assimilation  to  the  soul's  life.  AVhen  we  undertake 
to  tell  to  another  the  results  of  our  reading,  some 
solitary,  original  thought  must  start  into  life — the 
very  effort  put  forth  in  so  remembering  or  conceiving 
of  the  author's  thought,  or  argument,  or  plan,  as  to 
impart  it  luminously  to  another,  brings  into  play  a  new 
order  of  faculties,  gives  a  firmer  grasp  of  the  writer's 
meaning,  condenses  what  had  been  but  gaseous  or  neb- 
ulous haze  into  spherical  solidity ;  and  in  some  de- 
gree, by  such  use  of  the  author,  a  man  stamping  it  with 
his  own  originality  of  mind,  in  his  attempt  to  give  it 
to  another,  passes  from  the  meanness  and  dishonesty 
of  plagiarism  into  the  aristocracy  of  mental  creatorship. 
In  this  light  we  behold  the  value  of  clubs,  or  asso- 
ciations, or  institutes,  where  essays,  oral  or  written, 
are  delivered  by  the  members.  This,  certainly,  if  a 
pendant  to  "  Our  Library,"  must  contribute  vastly  to 
its  beneficial  power.  If  young  men  were  urged,  not 
merely  to  read,  but  to  produce  the  results  of  their 
reading,  either  in  debating  or  essay  writing,  and  if 
there  were  any  thing  resembling  brains,  there  must  be 
a  large  acquisition  to  their  souls'  strength  by  such  a 
system  of  mental  gymnastics.  There  would  then  be 
defmiteness  of  object  in  reading.  There  would  be  a 
centralization  of  thought  upon  a  given  topic.  There 
would  be  a  completeness  of  investigation  induced,  there 
would  be  a  transmutation  of  dead  knowledge  into 
pulsing,  radiant,  active  thought ;  and  our  future  should 
be  filled  with  men,  in  depth  of  refined  sympathy, 


"OrR  LIBRARY."  41 

breadth  of  sound  information,  refinement  of  taste, 
and  aspiration  after  good  more  substantial  and  joys 
more  exalted  than  can  be  gauged  by  draper's  yard- 
stick, or  weighed  in  banker's  balance,  or  locked  within 
invulnerable  or  inconsumable  Clmbb's  safes  or  Bramah 
locks.  The  law  of  co-operatiou  pervades  human  life 
and  penetrates  the  universe.  Deity  demands  it,  and 
we  are  urged  by  nature,  Providence,  and  grace  to  be- 
come workers  together  with  Him.  Man  demands  it. 
Thus  has  he  conquered  nature,  mastered  science, 
multiplied  comforts,  vanquished  despotism,  diffused 
knowledge,  and  pressed  forward  his  valorous  cohorts 
of  philanthropy  upon  the  domains  of  misery,  super- 
stition, and  heathendom.  Steam,  electricity,  manu- 
factures, all  testify  to  the  power  of  co-operation.  The 
speaker,  the  orator,  the  teacher,  all  appeal  to  and  are 
dependent  for  their  sovereignty  over  mind  upon  co- 
operation. The  author  appeals  to  it,  and  without  it 
flings  his  seed  thoughts  as  upon  the  sea-sands'  furrows ; 
with  it,  casts  his  bread  upon  the  peaceful  flood,  and 
comes  again  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him. 
Let  this  Library  be  deemed  an  intellectual  gasometer 
— our  invaluable  Librarian  the  trusty  keeper  of  the 
works,  our  Committee  caterers  of  the  fuel,  and  our 
subscribers  the  householders  to  whose  apartments  the 
pipes  are  laid  down  and  the  invisible  fluid  transmitted. 
But  of  what  avail  this  furnace  glow,  and  the  conduits 
carrying  their  latent  streams  of  fiery  light,  unless  we 
strike  the  match  and  apply  the  taper  of  our  own  per- 
sonal and  studious  application  ?  There  must  be  co- 
operation, else  the  mechanism  and  organization  pro- 


42  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

long  their  being  but  to  perpetuate  "  a  mockery,  a 
delusion,  and  a  snare." 

How  this  links  us  with  Time  past,  and  tells  us  of 
the  indissoluble  connection  existing  between  the  suc- 
cessive generations  of  the  human  race. 

For  us  of  to-day  the  students  of  the  past  toiled, 
explored,  remembered,  and  constructed.  We  are  the 
heirs  of  all  departed  generations.  Men  have  pro- 
duced for  us,  but  through  what  variety  of  processes 
and  influences  were  they  enabled  to  produce  and  pro- 
vide for  us!  How  manifold  the  education  and  the 
educational  agencies  conspiring  to  this  result !  Through 
poverty,  through  pain,  amid  scorn,  and  despite  in- 
gratitude ;  while  sorrow  shadowed  their  features,  and 
solitude  gloomed  their  hearts;  though  not  an  eye 
glanced  sympathy,  and  not  a  lip  whispered  hope,  or 
breathed  "  Well  done  !  "  Schooled  by  adversity,  tu- 
tored by  friendship,  taught  by  disappointment,  chas- 
tened by  self-sacrifice,  they  became  endowed  with 
maturity  of  thought  and  tenderness  of  feeling  and 
opulence  of  experience,  whereby,  "  not  unto  them- 
selves, but  unto  us,"  they  might  "minister  of  their 
royal  benefactions."  From  the  cold  heights  of  the 
stellar  heavens,  and  from  the  fiery  depths  of  their 
impassioned  hearts ;  from  the  walks  of  quiet  life,  and 
the  broad  highways  of  imperial  struggle  and  advance- 
ment ;  from  the  mystic  realms  of  mind,  and  the 
broad,  bright  regions  of  material  law  and  order ;  from 
the  traditions  of  vagrant  tribes,  and  the  storied  chron- 
icles graved  on  stone,  or  vellum,  or  pappus;  chanted 
by  chorus,  scald,  or  troubadour ;  clashed  by  cymbal, 


"OUR  LIBRARY."  43 

pealed  by  tramp,  swelling  from  the  cords  of  Celtic  or 
Druidic  harps !     Here  Egypt's  wisdom,  and  Persia's  ^  6  ' 
lore,  and  Chaldean  science.     Here  the  speculation  of  '• 
Greece,  and  the  legislation  of  Rome,  and  the  chivalry 
of  Norsemen.     Homer's  immortal  melodies,  and  De- 
mosthenes" musical   thunder  still  murmur  or  rever- 
berate.     Here   Plato   theorizes,   and  Socrates  cross- 
questions,  and  Aristotle  propounds  his  science  of  man, 
of  government,  and  of  nature.     Here  are  preserved 
the  sp'oils  of   Saracenic  sage  and  Mediaeval  sophist. 
Bacon  is  green  with  amarynth,  and  Shakspeare  is  wet 
with  garlanded  dew,  and  Milton's  magnificent  mantle 
waxes  not  old,  and  wears  not  out  its  sumptuous  colors 
by  rush  of  many  generations.     But  the  time  would 
fail  me  to  speak  of  those  to  whom  we  are  indebted  j 
for  our  inheritance.     Verily  we  dwell  in  a  large  and! 
a  wealthy  place ! 

The  past  still  lives.     Not   merely  in  their   own 

^-  -*•  ^ v 

writings  do  the  old  masters  live,  but  as  certainly  they 
have  their  being  perpetuated  in  the  influences  of  their 
thoughts  upon  the  literary  processes  of  following 
ages.  Not  a  singer  since  Homer  but  has  owned  his 
spell.  Not  a  science  since  the  days  of  Moses  in  Egypt 
but  feels  the  potency  of  those  who  piled  the  Pyramids 
and  carved  the  Sphinx  Not  a  painter  since  the  great 
Apelles  but  has  breathed  his  inspiration.  Not  a 
metaphysician  since  Zeno  who  has  not  been  guided 
through  the  labyrinth  of  study  by  his  torch.  Not  an 
orator  in  forum  or  in  hall  since  Cicero  who  has  not 
acknowledged  the  spell  with  which  he  thralled  his 
hearers. 


41:  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

^or  is  it  thus  alone  that  the  thinkers  of  the  past  live 
in  the  present.  They  failed ;  we  shun  their  perils. 
They  guessed ;  we  seize  their  clue  and  thread  our 
maze  the  more  securely.  They  scented  the  secret; 
we  have  been  saved  the  trouble  of  aught  save  the  ex- 
citement and  success  of  the  pursuit.  They  proved 
the  usefulness  of  certain  methods  of  discovery  and 
forms  of  speculation.  They  have  saved  us  the  waste 
of  time  and  delay  of  acquisition  by  their  exemplary 
experience.  They  live  in  their  sons,  and  are  sure  of 
immortality  through  their  seed  royal  among  the  chil- 
dren of  men.  Thus  it  is  that  we  think  as  we  dwell 
within  "  Our  Library." 

Here,  in  the  softly  flowing  waters  of  "  Our  Library," 
we  read  the  story  of  the  streams  that  have  poured 
their  tributaries  therein.  Look  at  some  majestic  river, 
and  begin  to  trace  its  travel.  Up  its  banks  pursue 
your  voyage  ;  on  either  hand  trickling  drops  melt  into 
its  floods ;  overhanging  branches  distil  their  dews ; 
above,  the  weeping  cloudlet  floats  its  tears ;  cascades 
flash  with  rainbow  beauty  into  the  torrent ;  rivulets 
glide  softly  into  the  great  arterial  flood ;  branch 
rivers  stretching  on  either  hand  far  out  into  interior 
realms  have  collected  from  countless  sources  the  waters 
of  fountain  and  rivulet ;  down  shallows  and  through 
gloomy  dells,  from  dark  tarn-lakes  and  ever-bubbling 
mountain  wells,  along  the  course  of  a  million-acred 
basin  land,  has  the  imperial  stream  obtained  its  trib- 
ute. Snows  have  melted  to  feed  it,  and  glaciers  dis- 
solved to  charge  its  channels,  and  thunderstorms  burst 
to  fill  its  beds ;  within  its  sea-like  waters,  wherein  the 


"OlIR    LlBRAKY."  45 

sun  glasses  his  cloudless  form,  and  whereon  argosies 
float  in  swanlike  grace  and  beauty,  we  behold  the  con- 
summated results  of  a  myriad  different  agencies  in  cease- 
less operation,  amid  the  mystic  stillness,  solitude,  and 
sublimity  of  earth  and  heaven,  of  mountain  and  of  vale. 

Then  a  fourth  idea  is  suggested.  "Our  Library" 
is  a  representative  of  the  highest  form  of  power — 
Mind  Power. 

The  highest  power  resides  in  mind.    It  is  the  parent 
of  all  power.     The  mightiest  instruments  of  force  are 
thoughts.  /  Thoughts    are    mighty   in    essence   and) 
quality  in   proportion    to    their  rank   in   the   moralv 
world,  in   proportion  to   their  fitness  to   beget  the  \ 
highest  moral  principles,  and  to  produce  the  wortliiest 
moral  character  and  conduct.)  The  invisibility,  the  j 
intangibleness  of  mind  power  may  with  some  eclipse 
its  glory  and  rob  it  of  its  meed  of  appreciation.     We 
are  so  accustomed  to  measure  might  by  palpable  and 
material  standards,  and  to  deny  it  to  aught  not  subject 
to  this  mode  of  estimate,  that  some  degree  of  reflec- 
tion is  necessary  ere  we  apprehend  the  majesty  of 
force  inherent  in  thought. 

And  yet  nature's  study  ought  to  teach  us  another 
lesson  ;  for  the  substances  most  potent  in  nature  are 
those  which  defy  our  sense  of  sight,  as  wind  ;  or  our 
sense  of  touch,  as  attraction  ;  or  our  sense  of  taste, 
as  light ;  or  our  sense  of  hearing,  as  heat,  magnetism, 
and  electricity.  The  imponderables  are  the  most  ex- 
alted in  the  scale  of  nature's  forces.  The  birth  and 
growth  power  of  life — insect,  plant,  or  beast — who 
shall  tell  its  magnitude  ?  For  what  so  resistless  as, 


46  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AXD  ADDRESSES. 

when  winter's  womb  quickens,  spring  gives  birth  to 
being,  and  summer  suns  look  down  upon  hosts  called 
from  slumber  and  stupor  into  active  and  exulting 
bliss  by  the  life-spirit  of  the  revolving  seasons ; 
transforming  a  sterile  hemisphere  into  laughing  ver- 
dure, and  peopling  a  vacant  and  somber  atmosphere 
with -tribes  of  swimming,  soaring,  and  rejoicing  life. 
The  more  a  man  is  advanced  in  the  path  of  civiliza- 
tion, the  more  will  he  seek  companionship  with  and 
be  prepared  to  render  reverence  to  the  "  unseen  and 
the  eternal." 

The  might  of  thought  may  be  inferred — as  that  of 
wind — from  its  effects.  The  history  of  man  is 
crowded  with  evidence  and  illustration.  Sometimes 
we  behold  its  might  embodied  in  conquering  expedi- 
tions, again  in  political  revolutions,  again  in  moral 
reformations,  again  in  social  transformations.  It  is 
seen  in  sculpture,  it  is  heard  in  eloquence,  it  is  wit- 
nessed in  architecture,  it  is  incarnated  in  legislation, 
it  is  enthroned  in  state-craft.  The  sea  has  felt,  the 
sun  owns,  and  the  winds  acknowledge  it.  It  has 
riven  rocks,  and  ransacked  forests,  and  tunneled 
mountains,  and  bridged  gulfs.  It  has  beaten  back  the 
ocean,  raced  with  time,  wrestled  with  gravitation, 
chained  the  lightning  to  its  throne,  and  equipped  it 
for  missions  of  mercy,  wisdom,  and  wealth.  It  has 
created,  but  it  has  conquered,  hoary  superstition  ;  it 
has  consolidated,  but  it  has  overthrown,  despotism  ;  it 
has  entered  the  lists  with  priestcraft,  Oriental  and 
Western,  and  taken  it  by  the  throat  and  thrown  it, 
and  planted  its  foot  upon  the  monster's  neck  ;  nor 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  47 

shall  it  be  withdrawn  until  "  the  light  Ithuriel  lance 
of  truth  "  shall  have  pierced  it  and  hurled  its  carcass 
to  its  own  place.  It  wrung  Magna  Charta  from  King 
John,  and  chased  the  crooked-minded  Stuart  from  the 
British  throne ;  it  struck  the  fetters  from  a  million 
slaves ;  secured  emancipation  for  five  million  Irish 
Catholics  ;  called  forth  and  clasped  to  its  warm  heart 
the  Reform  Bill  of  1830  ;  reasoned  and  debated  with 
statesmen  until  the  corn  laws  and  other  monopolies 
melted  into  nonentity  ;  and  cannot,  will  not,  tarry  or 
weary  or  repose  until,  wherever  ignorance  broods, 
knowledge  shall  flourish ;  wherever  a  wrong  reigns, 
right  shall  rule  ;  wherever  a  slave  cringes  a  freeman 
shall  rise  erect  beneath  God's  generous  and  impartial 
heavens,  and  from  a  soil  prolific  of  lies  it  shall  be 
said,  from  pole  to  pole,  there  "  truth  springs  out  of 
the  earth"  and  there  "  righteousness  dwelleth" 

Mean  in  birth,  ignoble  in  person,  and  uncouth  of 
speech  may  be  the  author  and  utterer  of  thought. 
These  but  create  the  deeper  contrast  and  ennoble  the 
triumph  of  the  thinker  ;  for,  stripped  of  all  that  is  ad- 
ventitious and  sensuously  imposing,  thought  has  but 
the  more  developed  her  native  and  inherent  might, 
and  while  the  body  wastes,  the  thought-life  waxes ; 
and  while  the  sensuous  oldens,  the  thought-power 
reaches  its  youth  ;  and  when  the  material  encasement 
crumbles  into  native  dust,  the  thought-energy  but 
then  begins  to  reveal  the  "  hidings  of  its  power," 
and  from  the  grassy  grave  or  the  marble  cenotaph 
"  goes  forth  as  a  bridegroom  out  of  his  chamber," 
and  as  a  strong  man  to  run  his  race,  bathed  in  the 


48  GUARD'S  LECTUEES  AND  ADDBESSES. 

dews  of  immortality  and  clad  in  the  garments  of 
eternal  worth ;  nor  time  nor  change  nor  empires' 
dissolution  nor  death's  fell  swoop  can  bind  its  action 
or  destroy  its  rule.  Of  it,  as  of  the  Father  of  lights, 
it  must  be  chanted,  "  Thy  throne  is  for  ever  and  ever, 
and  of  the  increase  of  thy  power  there  bhall  be  no 
end." 

"  While  the  earth  was  resounding  with  Alexander's 
exploits,  Aristotle,  his  tutor,  was  silently  achieving 
the  mightier  conquest  of  the  human  mind.  The 
Macedonian  Empire  was  soon  dismembered  and  ex- 
tinct ;  but  the  mental  empire  of  the  philosopher  con- 
tinued vigorous  and  entire  for  more  than  two  thou- 
sand years,  molding  opinions,  affecting  creeds,  and 
indirectly  guiding  the  popular  intellect ;  nor  is  it  any 
thing  like  destroyed  yet." 

Nay,  here  have  we  preserved  for  us  the  mind  of  de- 
parted days.  Here  have  we  the  fossil  thoughts  of  the 
different  eras  and  ages  of  the  world's  mental  and 
moral  history.  Here  may  we  read  the  prominent 
features  of  each  cycle  of  the  literary  and  religious 
past.  Here  may  we  learn  the  degree  of  growth- 
power,  the  quantity  and  quality  of  light-power,  under 
which  thinkers  were  developed.  Think  of  some  of 
those  masses  of  mind-power!  What  evidences  of 
their  forces  in  evoking  passion,  in  calming  fear,  in 
rousing  to  courage  !  What  mastery  over  imagination 
by  Byron  !  What  spell  thrown  around  a  wondering 
nation  by  the  earliest  novels  of  Scott,  while  he  yet  re- 
mained "  The  Great  Unknown !  "  What  superb 
specimens  of  the  range  of  human  thought,  the 


"OUR  LIBRARY."  49 

resources  of  human  imagination,  of  the  royalty  of  hu- 
man speech,  in  those  volumes  of  British  eloquence 
enrolling  the  names  of  Fox  and  Sheridan,  of  Burke 
and  Chatham  !  What  tales  of  intellectual  prowess 
the  story  of  Sir  Isaac  Newton  hints  ;  or  of  educational 
advancement  "Arnold's  life  narrates !  what  surging 
of  feeling,  what  tension  of  thought,  what  play  of 
fancy,  what  patience  in  application,  what  perseverance 
in  peering,  what  concentration  of  faculties,  before 
which  darkness  trembled  into  light,  and  mystery 
started  in  to  simplicity,  and  withered  facts  heaved  with 
flushed  and  purpled  life,  and  chaos  put  on  shapes  of 
comeliness,  and  Anarchy  stooped  from  her  ebon 
throne  but  to  reveal  Law  reposing  in  serene  and  regal 
ease,  as  worlds  revolved  in  homage  and  every  thing 
breathed  forth  its  adoration  in  melody  of  praise !  The 
power  which  clrew  out  the  secret  from  matter  and 
extorted  the  principle  from  mind  ;  which  subdued  the 
weakness  of  flesh  and  defled  the  difficulties  of  friend- 
less investigation  ;  which,  as  it  passed  through  the  \ 
hand,  seizing  the  stylus  or  the  pen,  stamped  its  image  ) 
upon  the  caligraphy  of  the  writer  in  lines  of  hurried,  ] 
blurred,  and  ragged  contour;  power,  which  damped 
the  author's  brow  with  brain  dew,  and  drew  tears 
from  many  a  reader's  eye  and  sighs  from  many  a  stu- 
dent's heart ;  power,  which  shook  the  prince  beneath 
his  robes  and  blanched  the  cheek  of  pontiff  amid  his 
parasites  and  palace  pomps;  power,  which  roused 
peoples  from  lethargy  into  the  frenzy  of  crusading 
zeal,  chiseled  the  boulders  of  Vandal  and  Gothic 
ignorance  into  edifices  of  freedom  and  homes  of 


50  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

honesty  and  honor,  and  established  and  matured  the 
grandest  civil  constitution  that  ever  spread  its  pro- 
tecting shadow  over  the  races  of  men — at  once  the 
pride  of  Englishmen,  the  glory  of  time,  and  the 
wonder  of  the  world  ! 

May  we  not,  then,  look  upon  the  Library  as  the 
concentration  of  power  ?  Here  we  seem  as  if  in  a 
well-seamed  coal  mine.  Look  at  that  coal  mine. 
Black,  dead,  inert,  unsightly  as  it  is,  it  once  lived,  it 
once  grew,  it  once  brought  forth  after  its  kind ;  in 
swamp  and  river-bed,  in  forest  and  morass,  on  moor 
and  fen,  in  shapes  of  gracefulness,  in  forms  of  infi- 
nitely varied  stature,  structure,  color — that  dead  thing 
lived.  Fern,  moss,  and  grass,  stunted  and  stately, 
stout  and  stalwart — of  brief  existence,  of  prolonged 
duration.  Vegetation  lies  there,  untouched  ;  but  not 
less  certainly  POWER  lies  there:  power,  higher  than 
mechanical,  higher  than  chemical — even  LIFE  POWER 
to  which  the  former  two  are  inferior  or  subservient. 
Power,  claiming  life  from  the  rain-drop  and  from  the 
air  vesicle  and  from  the  earth  and  from  the  sun- 
beam ;  power,  changing  death  into  life  and  dullness 
into  motion  and  the  servile  atom  into  a  'seed-cell ; 
power,  to  which  gravitation  bowed  and  electricity  paid 
tribute  and  heat  returned  an  unfailing  response.  And 
through  cycles  and  voiceless  ages  this  force-agent— 
Life — ruled.  Plant  and  stalk  and  tree  flourished, 
while  the  saurian  plunged,  swam,  and  crawled,  and  the 
lizard  and  the  tortoise,  the  fish  and  the  fowl,  ex- 
hausted their  plenitude  of  capacities.  There  convul- 
sions upheaved  and  displaced  and  submerged  ;  there 


e  "  OUK  LIBRARY."  51 

torrents  rushed  and  streams  overflowed  their  banks. 
The  dynasty  of  death  became  a  reality,  and  forest  and 
grove  and  copse  sank  o'erwhelmed  by  earthquake,  or 
cut  off  by  torrent  or  ocean's  inroad.  Or  gradually 
decay  and  death  and  subsidence  took  place  ;  and  lay- 
ers spread  the  soft  covering  over  decimated  vegeta- 
tion, forming  the  soil — the  soil  whereon  new  life 
should  flourish  and  in  turn  decay.  It  is  no  figure  of 
speech  to  say,  therefore,  that  not  only  have  we  vege- 
tation heaped  in  coal  beds,  but  we  have  therein  a  light 
or  sun-strength  slumbering — not  one  ounce  of  power 
wasted,  not  one  pound  of  leverage  unreckonable. 
f  There  it  lies,  confined,  imprisoned,  the  sleeping  giant 
^-  of  the  enchanted  castle  of  the  earth.  \  Science  has 
stormed  the  stronghold  and  pealed  the  blast  whose 
resurrection  breath  has  called  from  its  sepulchral 
vaults  the  Titan  of  the  coal-fields ;  for  not  only  is  the 
power  demonstrably  existing,  but  it  is  power  avail- 
able. It  can  be  recalled  to  action  ;  it  can  be  restored 
to  veritable  use.  It  lives  again — it  works  right  vig- 
orously. It  has  gained  by  death.  The  law  of  prog- 
ress is  illustrated  by  its  transformation.  In  vegetation 
power  had  a  natural  body.  In  gas,  light,  and  steam 
it  claims  a  spiritual  body.  The  grossness  first,  the 
ethereality  second — nevertheless,  unaltered  POWER. 

The  engineer  Stephenson  asked  "Buckland,  u  What 
drives  that  engine  ? "  The  doctor  replied,  "  Of 
course,  steam."  "  Nay,"  said  George,  "  it  is  the  light 
of  the  sun,  first  in  plants,  then  in  coal,  then  in  heat, 
now  in  steam."  That  bucket  of  coals  can  be  meas- 
ured ;  it  can  by  steam  perform  the  work  of  twenty 
5 


52  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

o 

men.  That  stone  of  hay  and  those  four  pounds  of 
oats  can  be  measured — they  represent  power.  They 
will  feed  a  horse  for  a  day,  and  supply  him  with  nerve 
and  muscle-strength  for  one  day's  labor.  That  ration, 
of  meat  three  pounds,  of  bread  two  pounds,  can  be 
measured  ;  it  represents  POWER.  Eaten  by  a  Kafir,  it 
passes  through  his  system  into  LABOR — not  all,  per- 
haps, for,  lazy  fellow  as  he  is,  he  may  adopt  other 
safety-valves  through  which  to  pass  off,  without  toil, 
his  meat-power.  But  the  beef  and  bread  represent 
POWER,  and  may,  through  a  human  being,  pass  into 
literal  STRENGTH. 

That  waterfall  can  be  measured ;  it  represents 
POWER.  Falling  a  given  distance  it  generates  .a  cer- 
tain heat.  Measure  the  quantity  of  water,  and  meas- 
ure the  space  through  which  it  falls,  and  you  arrive 
at  the  weight  it  can  elevate  and  the  distance  whither 
it  shall  raise  it.  And  men  are  busy  to-day  developing 
latent  power  either  into  ox-muscle,  man-muscle,  or 
engine-muscle.  And  if  the  coal-fields,  as  the  treasure- 
house  of  sun-power  and  vegetation-power  in  years 
past,  countless  as  the  stars,  represent  the  mind-force 
of  departed  writers  as  calmly  reclining  upon  the 
shelves  of  "  Our  Library,"  so  may  we  behold,  in  the  de- 
velopment of  the  latent  physical  force  by  the  use  of 
coal,  in  factory  and  printing-press  and  locomotion,  an 
illustration  of  our  relation  to  the  spiritual  strength 
enthralled  within  the  pages  of  "  Our  Library."  That 
Library  is  to  us  our  coal-mine  ;  your  subscription  en- 
titles you  to  sink  a  shaft,  to  work  a  mine. 

But  it  rests  not  here — there  must  be  such  a  use 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  53 

made  of  the  thought-substance  obtained  as  that  there 
shall  be  a  production  of  POWER.  The  power  of  mind 
inclosed  within  the  walls  of  "  Our  Library  "  is  meas- 
ureless. Yet  it  is  available — it  is  transferable. 

The  problem  to  be  practically  solved  by  readers 
is,  how  they  may  transmute  that  force  into  soul-life 
— how  draw  out  the  imperishable  vitality  of  great 
authors.  That  will  lead  to  the  formation  of  the  most 
prudent  and  efficient  plan  for  the  employment  of  the 
mental  material.  In  three  ways  may  a  man  make 
use  of  such  material.  He  may  speak  it  in  conversa- 
tion ;  he  may  write  it  on  paper  or  canvas  or  stone  ;  he 
may  act  it  in  a  life  which  shall  be  itself  a  poem  in  its 
beauty  and  an  anthem  in  its  rhythm  and  concord. 
There  must  be  study — consecutive,  concentrated,  and 
continuous.  There  must  be  memory  of  facts,  persons, 
principles.  There  must  be  distinct  apprehension  of 
the  gist  of  the  author,  the  purport  of  the  theme,  the 
completeness  of  the  structure.  There  must  be  the 
actual  power  to  use  this  and  render  it  into  original 
and  apprehensible  ideas  to  yourself  or  to  others. 

Not  the  mere  capacity  of  memory  which  can  give 
out  verbatim  what  has  been  absorbed  ;  that  is  not  the 
evidence  of  well-used  mental  resources.  Such  per- 
formance is  as  though  what  one  had  eaten,  having 
passed  through  the  crypts  of  his  intestines,  instead  of 
living  flesh  and  blood  and  bone,  reappeared  in  its 
original  form.  Be  it  remembered  that  it  is  not  by 
the  act  of  acquisition  that  we  most  economically  em- 
ploy thoughts ;  but  principally  and  pre-eminently — 
ay,  and  in  accordance  with  the  far-reaching  law,  "  it 


54  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

is  more  blessed  to  give  than  to  receive  " — bj  impart- 
ing. The  book  which  asks  us  to  give  most  of  our- 
selves in  order  to  possess  what  it  offers  is  that  which 
is  the  most  valuable  educator. 

This  idea  suggests  another  principal  thought,  that  a 
library  should  be  endowed  with  material  suited  to  every 
department  of  the  complex  natures  of  its  students  and 
patrons. 

Should  a  youth  ask  me  what  books  he  ought  to 
read,  what  selection  he  should  make  from  a  gathering 
so  heterogeneous,  I  should  reply,  Act  in  the  same  man- 
ner as  you  would  in  selecting  a  friend  or  a  number  of 
companions.  Let  there  be  a  high  aim  in  view.  It  is 
to  be  supposed  that  you  will  choose  moral,  at  least, 
and,  at  best,  godly  companions. 

Then  let  your  personal  taste  direct  you.  One  with 
whom  you  can  sympathize ;  one  who  perhaps  has  all 
you  possess,  and  more ;  one  who  can  reciprocate  your 
individuality  of  genius,  of  reading,  and  pursuits,  and 
who  can  bring  his  own  independent  contribution  to 
supply  that  wherein  by  constitution  or  culture  you 
may  be  wanting  in  order  to  full-orbed  perfectness. 

As  there  is  in  a  man's  companionship  an  index  to 
his  mental  as  well  as  moral  and  social  habitudes,  so 
in  a  man's  books.  The  librarian  has  in  the  books 
chosen  an  infallible  touch-stone,  whereby  to  test  the 
constituents  of  your  soul  and  character.  Near  as  the 
needle  to  the  pole  will  your  proclivities  of  taste  move 
you  to  the  department  of  the  book — be  it  narrative, 
science,  poetry,  or  fiction — be  it  trivial  or  solid — be  it 
abstruse  or  superficial — be  it  enlarging  to  the  mind's 


"OUB   LlBKAKY."  55 

grasp,  or  pampering  to  the  emotion's  morbid  craving. 
As  manifold  as  are  the  great  divisions  of  the  intellect- 
ual world  should  be  the  books  in  their  classifications 
selected  and  mastered.  Ever  remember  there  are 
some  to  be  tasted  and  laid  down,  some  to  be  taken  up 
in  hours  of  idleness,  and  gome  to  be  the  specific 
themes  of  most  earnest  and  conscientious  mastery. 

History  is  well  represented  in  "  Our  Library,"  and 
cannot  be  omitted  by  the  intelligent  self-cultivator, 
especially  the  history  of  your  own  country.  Of  that 
you  should  be  an  earnest  and  an  enthusiastic  student. 
You  cannot  cherish  affection  too  hi  tense,  veneration 
too  profound,  for  your  beloved  mother-country. 

History  widens  our  survey  of  man ;  enriches  our 
experience  of  the  fundamental  elements  of  human 
passion  and  motives  ;  teaches  philosophy  by  example  ; 
reveals  the  immutability  of  moral  law ;  confirms  our 
confidence  in  the  existence  and  in  the  equity  of  provi- 
dential government;  assures  us  of  the  infallible  con- 
nection between  sin  and  suffering,  between  falsehood 
and  anarchy,  between  virtue  and  permanent  political 
well-being;  from  the  failures  and  successes  of  the 
past  derives  warning  and  inspiriting  counsel  for  the 
present ;  gives  ns  confidence  in  the  ultimate  triumph 
of  the  right;  and  warrants  us  in  the  belief  of  the 
gradual  elevation  of  our  race,  and  the  final  beautitnde 
awaiting  our  vexed  world,  even  a  millennium  of  right- 
eousness, wherein  justice  shall  spread  its  palladium- 
over  all  men,  and  charity,  founded  upon  truth,  bind 
up  a  torn  and  heal  a  bleeding  world.  Of  Gibbon's 
magnificent  story  you  cannot  remain  ignorant ;  Grote's 


56  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Grecian  history  shall  soon  enrich  our  stores ;  Ban- 
croft's America  has  the  fascination  of  a  romance ;  the 
same  must  be  said  of  Prescott ;  and  one's  soul  must  be 
dead  to  all  that,  from  a  brave  and  sturdy  people  strug- 
gling for  religious  and  civil  freedom,  appeals  to  his 
deep-throned  attachment  to  liberty,  if  Motley's  Dutch 
Republic  and  Rise  of  the  Netherlands  fail  to  win 
his  entranced  study. 

But  O,  let  the  story  of  Britain's  history  become 
your  special  occupation !  Happily  you  are  affluent  in 
material.  Each  cycle  in  her  chronicles  has  found  a 
fitting  scribe,  drawn  to  it,  I  doubt  not,  by  specialty 
of  task.  The  Anglo-Saxons  have  Turner.  The  Nor- 
mans have  Palgrave.  The  Tudors  have  found  their 
gifted  painter  in  Froude.  The  Stuarts  in  Foster 
and  Macaulay.  The  Georges  in  Lord  Mahon  and 
Massey.  And  then  there  is  the  equally  beautiful 
and  valuable  history  by  Knight,  where,  far  from 
partiality  and  with  the  labors  of  others  at  his  com- 
mand, he  has  added  the  sister  art  of  engraving  to 
textual  narrative  in  the  illustrations  of  the  annals  of 
our  wondrous  and  wonder-working  empire.  From 
ballad-singer  and  from  letter-writer,  from  state  rec- 
ords and  Parliamentary  Acts  —  from  monastic  cell, 
and  from  ambassadorial  correspondence  —  from  na- 
tional and  foreign  archives — from  play  of  dramatist 
and  journal  of  court  sycophant — from  gallery  of  por- 
traits and  cloister  of  university — with  a  patience  that 
has  never  nagged,  and  a  fervency  of  excitement  ever 
at  white  heat,  our  historians  have  placed  within  our 
possession  materials  for  a  masterly  and  comprehensive 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  57 

acquaintance  with  our  own  dear  land — our  lovely  En- 
gland, whose  rights  are  firm  as  her  rocks,  whose  liber- 
ties are  sacred  as  her  altars,  whose  throne  is  as  firmly 
planted  in  a  nation's  heart  as  the  noted  cliffs  which 
beat  back  the  foam  and  spray  and  defy  the  tempests  of 
revolving  centuries. 

The  true  historian  will  generalize  from  his  facts. 
His  science  is  an  inductive  one.  His  feet  should  rest 
upon  a  hill  of  vision  sufficiently  exalted  to  free  him 
from  the  mists  of  prejudice  and  party,  sufficiently  ex- 
alted to  survey  the  connection  between  the  multitudi- 
nous facts  which  he  has  marshaled,  and  to  trace  the 
principle  of  the  facts  as  they  are  successively  and  co- 
existeutly  associated.  He  will  seize  epochs  and  mark 
the  crises  of  principles.  He  will  ponder  profoundly 
upon  the  results  of  confluent  streams  of  mental  and 
moral  influences,  trace  them  to  their  fountains,  and 
follow  them  to  their  united  volume,  reading  the  feat- 
ures of  their  compound  actions  upon  human  develop- 
ment and  destiny  with  an  acute  and  philosophic  eye. 
He  will  recognize  the  variety  of  original  temperament 
and  of  successive  training  upon  nations.  He  will 
mark  the  action  of  climate  and  calling  upon  character. 
He  will  weigh  the  force  of  material  laws,  as  well  as 
mental,  in  the  individuality  of  peoples.  He  will  de- 
tect the  impress  their  religions  take  from  their  dwell- 
ing-places. He  will  measure  the  power  of  the  poet  as 
of  the  philosopher,  of  the  atmosphere  as  of  the  arts, 
of  the  landscapes  as  of  the  literature,  in  that  mo- 
mentous production,  a  Grecian  or  English  nation.  He 
will  read  the  operations  of  commingled  bloods  in 


58  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

refreshing  and  invigorating  the  material  that  men  are 
made  of ;  he  will  mark  the  part  that  each  has  played 
in  the  advancement  of  the  race;  how  some  have  de- 
veloped the  physical,  others  the  mental,  others  the 
moral,  others  the  commercial,  and  others  the  ruling 
and  obeying  interests  of  humanity,  and  how  each,  ere 
it  vanished,  contributed  some  appreciable  aid  to  the 
progress  of  the  great  family  of  man.  He  will  discover 
the  influence  of  war,  the  results  of  scientific  discover, 
ies,  the  consequences  of  colonization  and  of  conquests, 
of  the  voyages  and  travels  of  explorers,  of  the  birth 
of  printing,  the  manufacture  of  paper  and  of  gun- 
powder, the  disuse  of  pike  and  bow,  the  employment 
of  musket  and  cannon,  as  agents  in  the  elevation  of 
the  race  and  the  progress  of  nations.  Above  all,  he 
will  exult  in  beholding  any  and  every  proof  of  the 
growth  of  a  capacity  for  liberty,  and  a  power  to  wrest 
it  from  potentate  and  baron  ;  he  will  rejoice  in  the 
rise  of  free  cities,  in  the  struggle  of  shackled  men  for 
freedom,  and  in  the  general  assertion  of  the  repre- 
sentation in  government  by  the  masses  of  mankind, 
and  he  shall  become  enthralled  by  the  story  of  the 
battles  fought  and  gained  by  all  who  have  risen 
against  the  oppressor,  whether  he  have  been  cased  in 
knightly  steel  or  folded  in  soft-ermined  ecclesiastical 
garb.  Then,  if  ever,  we  shall  have  eloquence  in  fiery 
torrent  or  in  cataract  sublimity. 

Nor  can  the  true  student  of  history  overlook  the 
government  of  God  over  all  that  is  permitted,  pre- 
vented, and  perpetuated  in  nations.  His  presence- in 
the  punishment  of  evil,  in  the  checks  placed  around 


"OuE  LIBRARY."  59 

its  growth,  and  the  certainty  of  its  destruction  by  the 
action  of  its  own  properties.  And  the  presence  of 
the  greatest  event  of  time  cannot  be  omitted  without 
absolute  confusion.  The  Christ  who  has  come  and 
will  come  again  in  the  fullness  of  the  future  must 
be  deemed  the  keystone  to  the  arch  of  history,  span- 
ning the  roaring  and  dark  waters  of  time.  The 
cross  alone  can  shed  light  upon  the  mysteries  of  hu- 
manity, and  the  cross  alone  is  the  master-key  where- 
by the  else  impenetrable  darkness  of  life,  personal 
or  imperial,  can  be  unlocked  and  opened  to  the  in- 
vigorating and  harmonizing  light  of  philosophy. 
Poetry  is  represented  in  "  Our  Library." 
Poetry  meets  a  want  of  our  nature.  It  has  ever  in 
spirit,  and  for  ages  in  body,  co-existed  with  the  hu- 
man race.  It  has  never  lacked  themes  to  sing  of,  nor 
an  audience  before  whom  to  chant.  Its  range  is  lofty 
as  the  throne  of  deity,  profound  as  the  depths  of  the 
unplummeted  human  spirit,  and  broad  as  the  planet 
tenanted  by  civilized  or  savage  men.  The  raptures 
and  the  martyrdoms  of  faith — the  confidence  and  the 
tenderness  of  love — the  charm  of  infancy  and  the 
promise  of  boyhood — the  chivalry  of  youth  and  the 
autumnal  glories,  mellow  and  subdued,  of  hoary- 
headed  goodness — are  themes  for  poetry.  Nature  in 
all  her  voices,  moods,  and  tenses — in  all  her  concords, 
variations,  and  harmonies  —  when  daylight  dies  and 
when  morn  is  born — when  spring-life  bursts  and  sum- 
mer ripens — storms  in  their  terror  and  their  decadence 
— flowers  in  their  buds  and  blossoms — forests  in  mazy 
wanderings  and  cathedral  melodies  —  sublimities  of 


G.1  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

night  and  her  plentiturle  of  stellar  mysteries  and 
beauties — pensive  and  melancholy  eve — brilliant,  glar- 
ing, and  busy  noon — ocean,  in  calmness  and  in  storm, 
howling  its  hoarse  chorus  or  booming  its  deep  bass  of 
alleluias  —  light,  painting  its  ever-varying  cartoon, 
calling  forth  a  gladsome  infinitude  of  life,  and  robing 
rugged  and  riven  landscapes  in  a  purple  and  aerial 
misty  mantle — darkness,  symbol  of  inner  sorrow,  of 
moral  desolation  and  drear  abandonment,  of  self-in- 
flicted tortures  and  wild,  bewildering  imagination — are 
the  themes  for  poetry. 

Poetry  !  Frenzy  in  her  eye — beauty  on  her  brow — 
truth  on  her  lip — grace  in  her  movements — rhythm  in 
her  cadences — wealth  in  her  conceptions — she  holds  a 
passport  scroll  from  the  lover  of  concord  to  all  realms 
of  past  and  present,  all  realms  of  mind,  of  matter,  of 
morals — she  makes  her  home  amid  "  the  precious  things 
of  the  lasting  hills  and  of  the  deep  beneath,"  of  the 
moon  and  of  the  sisterhood  of  planets.  It  is  her  mis- 
sion to  soothe  the  unhappy  and  revive  the  hopeless — 
to  brace  the  flagging  and  beatify  the  victorious  in  the 
battle  of  the  true — to  add  elixir  to  the  daily  cup  of 
troubled  households — to  welcome  the  babe  into  being, 
sing  at  her  marriage  festals,  and  on  its  lucent  and 
mellifluous  wave  to  float  the  dying  spirit  within  the 
choral  circles  of  the  sons  of  God. 

Man  is  poetry's  grand  theme — central  and  all-related 
man,  in  his  own  changing  feelings  and  moods  of  pas- 
sion. When  peace  enfolds  her  wings  within  the  tem- 
pled spirit,  and  when  revenge  broods  in  sullen  and 
gloomy  horror ;  when  love  spreads  her  pavilion  of 


"OuK  LIBRARY."  61- 

satisfaction,  and  when  grief  sits  shrouded  amid  sepul- 
chral solitudes  of  a  widowed  heart.  Hope,  in  its 
bright-visioned  and  vivacious  fancyings,  and  despair, 
with  torn  and  tortured  visage,  rent  by  the  convulsive 
throes  of  memory  and  conscience,  of  good  abandoned, 
virtue  wildly  cast  away;  heaven's  starless  arch  the 
porch  within  and  beyond  which  the  suicidal  spirit 
sweeps  to  outer  darkness.  Man,  in  all  his  relations  to 
his  fellow  and  his  species — individual  man — collective 
man — the  home — the  nation — the  tribe — the  race — 
wherever  there  is  beauty  in  form  or  faith ;  wherever 
there  is  sublimity  in  heroism,  in  self-sacrifice,  in  mar- 
tyrdom; wherever  there  is  food  for  laughter  or  for 
tears ;  life  in  its  exuberance,  and  death  in  its  victory 
of  faith,  its  termination  of  conflict  and  trial,  and  its 
introduction  into  scenes  which  painters  may  not  de- 
lineate and  even  poetry  attempts  in  vain  to  echo  or 
transcribe.  These  are  the  poet's  lawful  subjects  and 
inherited  domain.  From  these,  by  his  description, 
to  produce  harmonious  and  unconscious  repose  of 
spirit,  which  is  but  another  name  for  happiness,  is 
the  prerogative  and  destiny  of  the  God -gifted 
singer. 

To  the  universe  he  himself  is  but  a  real,  living 
Memnon,  from  whose  many-chambered  soul  the  light- 
beam  of  nature  falling  and  striking  draws  out  the 
melodies  which  tremble  o'er  and  travel  down  the  liv- 
ing waters  of  the  Nile  floods  of  successive  generations, 
thence  borne  out  into  the  infinite  ocean  of  angelic 
and  glorified  intelligence ;  while  to  the  human  heart 
the  poet  is  but  as  the  ever-varying  wind,  blowing  as 


62  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

it  listeth,  but  passing  over  the  inner  soul  and  evoking 
from  its  seolian  depths  the  sweet,  soft  echoes,  whereby 
life's  toil  is  eased,  and  life's  purpose  is  carried  to  its 
consummated  bliss. 

Man  is  an  imitative  being.  From  the  cradle  to  the 
tomb  he  bows  to  this  principle  and  is  molded  by  it. 
Speech  and  habit  are  but  its  creatures.  Piety  is  helped 
by  it,  and  nobleness  of  character  springs  forth  and 
flourishes  under  its  protection.  The  child  is  thus 
fashioned  by  his  parent,  while  the  saint  thus  rises  into 
and  reflects  the  likeness  of  his  Saviour.  Its  spell  is 
thrown  around  the  studious  scholar  and  the  stripling 
soldier.  The  lisping  school-boy  feels  its  potency 
while  declaiming ;  nor  is  there  an  artist,  be  he  singer 
or  sculptor,  from  whose  soul  the  charm  hath  been 
utterly  expelled. 

Hence  there  should  be  provision  for  this  in  the 
complete  library.  Here  we  may  learn  how  to  emulate 
the  good,  and  tread  the  footsteps  of  the  great.  The 
tutor  of  youth  may  study  Arnold,  and  the  pastor  or 
preacher  Chalmers ;  the  military  cadet  may  breathe 
the  duty-loving  spirit  of  the  Iron  Duke  from  his  dis- 
patches, and  the  lawyer  secure  high  notions  of  the 
dignity  of  his  calling  while  conning  Lord  Jeffrey's 
life,  or  soaring  through  regions  ruled  by  England's 
chancellors  and  judges.  Statesmen  yet  to  be  may  sit 
at  the  feet  of  Peel ;  and  engineers  learn  how  to 
vanquish  poverty,  ignorance,  and  low  birth,  as  well  as 
to  subdue  matter  and  Jevy  tribute  from  the  laws,  of 
nature,  by  Stephenson's  career ;  and  if  the  soul  would 
rise  and  sing  and  soar  in  holy  living  and  in  heavenly 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  63 

mindedness,  then  Henry  Martyn's  "Journal "  furnishes 
the  suitable  provisions  for  so  high  and  laudable  a 
calling.  And  if  our  ladies  would  behold  how  possible 
a  thing  it  is  to  blend  all  that  may  become  a  woman — 
gentleness,  and  purity,  and  reticence — with  all  that  is 
broad  in  thought  and  beautiful  in  taste,  and  subtle  in 
philosophic  study  and  converse,  they  have  it  all  in 
Mrs.  Schimmelpeninck's  fascinating  life. 

This  class  of  reading  must  minister  richly  to  the 
energy  of  the  soul,  the  hopefulness  of  the  heart,  and 
essayings  of  the  life  after  the  just,  the  honest,  and  the 
lovely.  These  lives  surprise  us  by  their  attainments ; 
they  shame  us  by  their  diligence ;  they  stimulate  us 
by  their  conquest  of  the  foes  which  beleaguer  us. 
They  proclaim  the  possible,  and  point  the  pathway  to 
its  realization.  They  become  "  fire-pillars  "  to  guide 
our  journeys  through  peril  and  difficulty  into  the 
promised  land  of  self-contained  and  self-supplied 
satisfaction  and  repose.  They  disabuse  our  minds  of 
the  fallacy  of  feeling  by  which  so  many  gifted  spirits 
have  been  deterred  from  progress,  by  proving  that 
there  is  no  royal  road  to  knowledge — no  charmed 
secrets  whereby  mysteries  yield  up  their  burdens — no 
need  for  patronage  or  birth  in  order  to  true  greatness 
— that  the  true  man  is  fashioned  and  benefited  by 
reason  of  difficulties,  rises  in  power  as  he  sinks  in 
humility,  gains  in  influence  as  he  sacrifices  self,  reaches 
to  sovereignty  over  mind  and  conscience  not  alone  by 
greatness  of  intellect  but  by  greatness  of  heart — that 
diligence  makes  rich  in  thought,  and  perseverance 
removes  mountains  of  ignorance — that  prudence,  and 


64  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

foresight,  and  prayer  have  hitherto  failed  never  to 
turn  the  base  into  the  beautiful,  and  the  mean  into 
the  noble,  and  the  vile  and  despaired  of  into  the 
cleansed  and  clothed  and  Christ-like  "  children  of  the 
light " — "  and  that  no  one  can  have  shrines  erected  to 
his  memory  in  the  hearts  of  men  of  distant  generations, 
unless  his  own  heart  was  an  altar  on  which  daily 
sacrifices  of  fervent  devotion  and  magnanimous  self- 
denial  were  offered  to  the  only  true  object  of  human 
worship."  * 

Again,  man  is  related  to  nature — to  the  outer 
region  of  matter  and  to  the  inner  realm  of  mind. 
The  senses  conduct  to  the  one,  and  consciousness  and 
reflection  to  the  other.  Both  have  been  deemed 
legitimate  fields  of  investigation,  and  over  both  the 
wing  of  speculative  science  has  swept  for  many  a 
generation. 

Physical,  mental,  and  moral  sciences  have  tempted 
adventurers  by  the  difficulties  and  the  mysteries  en- 
shrouding them.  Who  can  reckon  up  a  fourth  part 
of  the  results  secured?  From  the  hyssop  and  the 
moss,  from  the  invisibles  that  brood  in  flower-cup 
and  quaff  honey- dew,  from  the  tiny  atom  whirling 
through  sunlight  and  that  knows  not  rest  nor 
weariness  of  motion,  on  through  ascending  ranks  of 
moving,  living,  thinking  being,  has  science  urged  her 
researches. 

She  has  stayed  the  comet  courier  and  heard  his 
message — placed  mind  upon  the  rack  and  drawn  forth 
its  secrets ;  she  hath  dived  beneath  ocean's  surface 

*  Sir  J.  Stephen, 


"OuB  LIBRARY."  65 

and  returned  with  pearl  wonders  from  coral  palace 
and  sea-grove  bowers ;  she  hath  peopled  the  dust  of 
the  earth  with  busy  tribes,  and  turned  the  star-power 
of  the  heavens  into  revolving  and  resplendent  worlds 
and  systems.  She  has  lit  her  lamp  and  descended  to 
the  catacombs  of  earth's  old  crust,  and  wandered 
through  cities  of  the  dead,  and  studied  their  histories, 
and  marked  the  presence  of  our  Lawgiver,  both  in 
their  plentitude  of  life  and  in  their  laws  of  dissolution. 
Science !  She  stands  like  the  angel  of  the  Revelation 
— one  foot  on  sea,  one  on  solid  land — her  head  cinctured 
with  a  star  turban,  while  her  eye  of  flame  pierces  the 
past,  reads  the  future,  and  scans  the  seed-soil  of  the 
wondrous  present.  Scholars  are  her  servants,  and 
the  occupants  of  thrones  are  numbered  among  her 
devoted  subjects.  She  scatters  her  benefactions  with 
impartial  hand,  and  shares  her  favors  with  the  humblest 
homesteads  as  with  the  haughtiest ;  and  draws  forth 
gratitude  from  toiler  and  from  thinker,  from  diseased 
and  deformed  humanity.  And  though  to  her  myster- 
ies the  many  must  remain  strangers,  and  to  but  a 
scanty  circle  of  anointed  and  consecrated  ones  has  it 
been  given  to  guard  and  feed  the  altar-fires  in  nature's 
temple;  nevertheless,  by  a  beneficent  arrangement, 
there  are  those  who,  if  not  qualified  for  the  duties  of 
high-priesthood,  are  dowered  with  a  fitness  to  act  as 
mediators  between  the  highest  thinkers  and  the  low- 
est artisans — men  capable  of  apprehending,  though 
not  of  discovering,  and  capable  also  of  translating 
into  the  vernacular  of  daily  action  the  sublimest  con- 
ceptions caught  by  direct  contact  with  the  universe. 


66  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Thus  it  is  that  the  loftiest  share  with  the  lowliest. 
As  the  debris  of  the  mountain  range,  though  inaccessi- 
ble and  useless  in  its  Himalayan  heights,  when  tritu- 
rated and  commingled  by  the  streams  which  bear  it 
down  into  the  valleys,  is  destined  to  form  the  fertile 
plains  on  whose  produce  nations  .live,  so  from  the 
lone,  bold  peaks  of  speculation  and  study,  by  laws  of 
social  and  mental  might  as  certain  in  their  action  as 
material  laws,  the  results  of  the  most  prolix  calcula- 
tions  and  the  most  profound  analyses  reach  the  lowest 
strata  of  life,  if  not  in  theorem  and  formula,  certainly 
in  their  embodied  and  palpable  form  of  science  wedded- 
to  art — wielding  the  sledge,  pointing  the  needle,  print 
ing  the  page,  flinging  the  shuttle,  battering  the  pile, 
heaving  the  granite,  and  propelling  the  engine  of  fac- 
tory or  locomotive. 

To  this  study  we  are  invited  by  the  scientific  volumer 
of  "Our  Library,"  to  which  we  have  had  a  most  valuable 
addition  in  the  works  of  Darwin,  Tyndall,  and  Grove, 
in  physical  sciences  ;  and  the  noble  and  thought- enrich- 
ing volumes  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  confessedly  the 
greatest  metaphysician  of  Great  Britain  since  John 
Locke.  Let  there  be  a  union  of  the  practical  with 
the  theoretic ;  from  Nichols  and  Herschel  to  the  actual 
firmament ;  from  Hugh  Miller,  and  Lyell,  and  Mur- 
chison  to  the  veritable  strata  of  the  hills ;  and  from 
the  subtleties  of  Hamilton  to  the  workings  of  your  own 
spirit.  Thus  take  witli  your  own  eyes  and  genius 
from  Nature's  cabinet  of  treasures.  See  God  in  all — 
in  wisdom  blending  with  goodness  ;  and  beauty  mar- 
ried to  the  bliss  of  being.  And  from  the  multiform 


"OuR  LIBRARY."  67 

interweavings  of  the  sciences,  each  playing  into  each, 
each  explaining  and  supporting  the  other,  ascend  some- 
what nigher  to  Him  who  has  embodied  His  unity  in 
the  diversified  but  harmonious  whole. 

There  is  another  department  of  "  Our  Library " 
which  may  not  be  omitted — that  of  "light  litera- 
ture." 

The  mass  of  this  article  is  indeed  huge  and  hetero- 
geneous, and  looks  as  if  it  had  been  frequently  re- 
sorted to.  The  volumes  composing  it  have  been  well 
thumbed  and  well  soiled.  Are  we  to  infer  that  this 
literature  supplies  a  want  of  our  mental  nature  ?  That 
there  is  a  craving  in  man  for  something  resembling 
the  novel,  cannot.  I  think,  be  denied. 

The  wide-spread  presence  of  the  novel — its  antiquity 
—its  perpetuity — are  not  to  be  overlooked.  Arabian 
Tales  are  novels ;  "  Henry,  Earl  of  Moreland "  is  a 
novel ;  "  Don  Quixote  "  is  a  novel.  The  style  of  the 
novel  is  found  in  Holy  Scripture.  Bunyan  used  it,  De 
Foe's  immortal  Crusoe  owes  his  renown  and  charm  to 
the  same  principle.  Truth  taught  through  the  imagi- 
nation— what  is  novel  literature  but  this  ?  The  heart 
reached  through  fictional  tuition — human  nature  de- 
lineated by  means  of  characters  and  individuals  brought 
into  such  juxtaposition  as  to  develop  passion  and  sen- 
timent— is  not  this  the  aim  of  the  novelist  ? 

Between  the  novel  and  novel  reading  there  is  a  dis- 
tinction. The  one  refers  to  the  style  of  instruction, 
the  other  to  a  habit  mental.  That  there  is  that  in  our 
nature  which  demands  truth  presented  in  some  such 

form  as  that  of  a  work  of  fiction  I  should  be  the  last 
6 


68  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

to  deny ;  that  it  is  not,  absolutely  and  intrinsically, 
and  under  all  forms,  wrong,  sinful,  or  immoral,  or  men- 
tally injurious  to  read  a  novel  or  to  study  a  drama,  who 
with  any  common  sense  will  attempt  to  deny  ?  John 
Wesley  recommended  Moreland,  and  had  Shakspeare. 
Unfortunately  one  of  his  executors  burned  the  latter, 
though  enriched  with  many  of  the  sage's  criticisms  and 
notes  ;  while  Chalmers'  favorite  study  was  "  The  Mid- 
summer Night's  Dream."  Dr.  Clarke  acknowledges 
his  debt  to  the  "  Arabian  Nights'  Entertainment,"  and 
evidently  admired  Scott's  historical  novels. 

The  novel,  as  a  mode  of  presenting  truth  or  ex- 
hibiting human  nature,  cannot,  therefore,  upon  relig- 
ious grounds,  be  condemned.  But  the  habit  of  novel 
reading  is,  of  course,  another  thing.  The  surrender 
of  the  mind  and  of  the  life  to  this  is  what  every  mor- 
alist and  Christian  must  condemn.  There  is  an  in- 
fallible softening  of  the  brain  and  ossification  of  the 
heart  attendant  on  novel  reading.  There  is  but  little 
attention  demanded,  and  thus  mind  is  dwarfed.  There 
is  a  perpetual  appeal  to  emotion,  which,  as  it  expends 
itself  in  luxurious  tears,  produces  no  virtuous  action. 
Is  there  no  higher  end  for  which  to  live  ?  Is  there  no 
more  remunerative  employment  for  mind  and  time  ? 
Are  self-respect,  self-government,  and  self-improve- 
ment growing  with  the  habit  ?  When  "  the  Master  " 
demands  an  account,  what  shall  be  the  response  for 
such  a  use  of  immortal  energies  and  opportunities? 
I  deny  not  the  might  of  the  spell.  To  many,  indeed, 
the  novelist  is  a  magician,  and  the  novel  a  cup  of  sor- 
cery ;  the  effort  demanded  to  break  loose  from  the 


"OUR  LIBRARY."  69 

spell  grows  with  each  act  of  self-surrender  to  the 
familiar  spirit,  until  at  length  the  novel  reader,  intel- 
lectually and  emotionally  considered,  is  found  as  im- 
becile in  will  and  emasculate  in  thought  as  ever  opium- 
eater  or  serf  of  alcohol.  "  Temperance  in  all  things  " 
I  would  recommend,  and  this  applied  to  "  light  litera- 
ture." 

Ought  not  the  well-established  term  which  distin- 
guishes the  species  lead  to  serious  reflection  upon  the 
amount  of  mind  devoted  to  communion  with  it? 
From  "  light  literature "  may  we  hope  to  gather 
strong  thought  ?  or,  as  men,  weight  of  character  ?  or 
acquire  might  of  moral  muscle  ?  or  grow  more  massive 
in  principles  of  public  and  human  importance?  I 
trow  not !  Levity  of  life,  of  motive  and  feeling,  must, 
by  a  natural  and  inflexible  law,  result  therefrom  ;  and 
what  can  proceed  from  this  but  a  character,  a  manhood 
of  which  it  shall  be  proclaimed,  "  Thou  art  weighed 
in  the  balance  and  found  wanting."  It  fits  not  for 
life.  If  life  demand  labor  and  toil  and  well-girded 
loins,  then  another  class  of  mind-food  must  be  par- 
taken ;  but  if  life  be  a  mere  voyage  through  the  air, 
and  the  man  a  mere  aeronaut,  then,  of  course,  it  is 
fitting  that  he  should  balloon  it.  If  life  be  a  vigor- 
ous pulling  up  the  stream  against  tide,  wind,  and  cur- 
rent, then  other  bone  and  nerve  and  flesh  producing 
pabulum  must  be  provided  ;  but  if  it  be  unconscious, 
floating  on  the  river  and  along  the  odorous  banks  of 
sentimentalism,  then,  of  course,  let  us  eat  our  lotus 
leaves,  and  dreamily,  lazily  glide  on  until  startled  by 
the  rapids  of  approaching  death,  or  fully  roused  by 


70  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  swift  aud  arrowy  plunge  beyond  the  Niagara  of 
the  grave. 

That  truth  has  been  taught  by  novel  writers  we  re- 
joice to  remember ;  that  evils  have  been  lashed  out  of 
existence  by  the  scourge  of  novel  satirists,  and  tickled 
to  death  by  the  feathers  and  straws  of  humorists,  we 
are  bound  to  remember.  a  Punch "  proves  this — so 
does  "  Fun."  Thackeray  confirms  this — and  so  does 
the  genial  humorist,  Dickens.  That  scenes  of  history 
have  been  grouped  and  painted  with  grandeur  and 
truth  is  sustained  by  "  Ivanhoe,"  that  gorgeous  canvas 
of  mediaeval  Crusades  ;  and  by  Kingsley  in  his  thrill- 
ing tales  of  Queen  Bess  and  of  the  early  Christian 
Church — the  one  in  his  "  Westward  Ho ! "  and  the 
other  in  his  "Hypatia."  And  that  taste  should  be 
regaled,  and  emotions  moved,  and  imagination  ren- 
dered auxiliary  to  recreative  pleasures,  both  bracing 
and  unbinding,  we  dare  not  question. 

Nevertheless,  there  is  now  less  need  than  ever  of 
such  modes  of  reading  history  or  acquiring  amuse- 
ment. Why,  is  not  the  romance  of  natural  history, 
the  poetry  of  science,  and  the  truth  of  chemistry 
and  geology,  "stranger"  than  all  the  records  of 
grotesque  fiction  and  Orient  fable  ?  Froude  is  a  rival 
of  Scott,  and  Faraday  challenges  George  Eliot.  Miller 
is  a  fit  compeer  for  even  Miss  Braddon  or  Mrs.  Norton. 

But  not  to  further  trespass  on  your  attention,  I  may 
conclude  by  reminding  you  of  your  accountability  for 
the  mental  gifts  bestowed,  and  the  literary  advan- 
tages available. 

There  is  another  division  of  our  nature  for  which 


"  OUR  LIBRARY."  71 

provision  has  been  made — religion.  This  once  oc- 
cupied a  large  proportionate  position  in  "  Our  Library," 
doubtless  the  produce  of  many  generous  donors  as 
evidencing  their  sympathies  with  the  institution.  The 
greatest  thing  in  mind  is  not  knowledge,  but  love. 
That  is  the  Great  Spirit's  glory,  his  goodness'. 

There  is  one  book  in  your  Library  surpassing  far 
all  others  in  its  authorship,  its  substance,  its  history. 
Its  age  is  hoary,  its  history  checkered,  its  preservatiuo 
miraculous.  Its  range  of  subjects  sweeps  back  to  the 
world's  birth,  and  on  to  its  hour  of  doom.  It  is  an 
inimitably  varied  composition,  and  includes  all  grades 
of  social  ranks  within  its  circle  of  authorship.  The 
plowman  and  the  prince,  the  priest  and  the  historian, 
the  physician  and  the  tax-gatherer,  have  clasped  hands 
in  its  authorship.  It  sheds  light  on  human  nature 
and  destiny,  snatches  fragments  from  superhuman 
and  miraculous  story.  It  sings  in  poetry  and  speaks 
in  drama.  It  has  healed  hearts  and  hallowed  lives  by 
its  presence  and  purity.  It  has  aided  other  writers, 
and  enriched  others'  lore,  and  diffused  its  influence 
through  such  a  mass  of  literature  that  if  it  were 
annihilated  it  could  be  reproduced  again,  and  not  one 
thought  would  be  missing.  Its  entrance  among  the 
nations  has  inaugurated  the  reign  of  mercy,  peace, 
and  truth.  It  has  outlived  dynasties  and  migrated 
with  nations,  and  takes  up  its  abode  in  marble  city 
and  in  hut  of  straw.  It  has  hushed  the  tempest  of 
the  heart,  purged  the  pools  of  appetite,  emancipated 
the  captive  will,  and  winged  for  higher  soaring  the 
eagle  power  of  intellect. 


72  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES 

Men  by  it  have  entered  upon  new  paths  of  well 
being  and  well  doing — they  have  blessed  where  they 
had  blasted ;  they  have  beautified  where  they  had 
deformed ;  and,  dying,  instead  of  Achan's  epitaph, 
"  This  man  perished  not  alone  in  his  iniquity,"  have 
gained  the  good  man's  in  memoriam,  "  He  rests  from 
his  labors,  and  his  works  follow  him." 

It  has  charmed  childhood,  it  has  been  shield  and 
scimiter  for  safety  and  defense  in  middle-aged  perils, 
it  has  been  lamp-light  for  the  valley  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  and  staff  of  strength  to  tottering  and  de- 
parting age.  With  purposes  of  mercy  for  the  world, 
and  a  mission  divine  in  its  origin  and  sanctions,  this 
volume  pants  for  race-wide  propagation,  and  yearns 
to  witness  the  exalting  virtue  of  its  truths  proven  by 
all  kindreds  and  tongues.  To  it  we  owe  our  civil  free- 
dom and  our  mental  liberty  and  wealth.  To  it  we 
owe  our  Bethesdas  and  asylums,  our  homes  in  this 
life  and  our  "  Father's  house "  in  that  which  is  to 
come. 

To  the  throne  of  mind  lift  up  that  monarch  volume ; 
bow  allegiance  to  its  precepts  and  loyalty  to  its  laws ; 
help  it  in  diffusing  its  influence  by  a  daily  exhibition 
'  of  its  beauty  of  holiness.  In  life  realize  its  peace — 
in  sorrow  its  solace — in  bereavement  its  hope — in 
death  its  full  assurance  of  faith — and  while  immor- 
tality endures,  prove,  by  the  deathlessness  of  its 
power  to  glorify,  that  "  the  "Word  of  our  God  en- 
dureth  forever." 


"WASTE."  73 

TT-T 

"WASTE."* 

AMID  the  multitude  of  laws  pervading  creation 
there  is  not  one  more  prominent  or  more  emphatic 
in  its  expression,  or  more  constant  in  its  operation,  or 
more  widespread  in  its  range,  than  the  law  of  utility. 
The  more  intimate  our  acquaintance  with  the  plan  of 
creation,  the  more  clear  our  perception  of  the  relation 
of  its  many  parts  to  each  other,  the  loftier  the  hill  of 
vision  from  which  we  look  out  upon  the  immensity 
of  being,  the  longer  the  periods  of  time  through 
which  we  mark  the  process  of  the  great  purpose  of 
the  Creator,  the  more  are  we  impressed  with  the  con- 
viction of  the  truth,  that  utility  underlies  and  is  in- 
terwoven with  all  to  which  the  Eternal  has  given 
existence. 

This  thought  is  found  in  the  realm  of  metaphysical 
philosophy.  For  of  those  who  have  attempted  to  de- 
fine virtue,  while  some  say  it  is  the  fitness  of  things, 
some  the  nature  of  things,  some  the  beauty  of  things, 
some  the  equity  of  things,  not  a  few  most  profound 
thinkers  trace  virtue  up  to  usefulness.  And  although, 
by  the  force  of  an  innate  instinct,  men  perceive  and 
feel  the  obligation  of  the  virtue  of  gratitude  and  of 

*  A  lecture  first  delivered  at  Mt.  Vernon  Place  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church,  Baltimore,  a  few  weeks  previous  to  the  author's  de- 
parture tor  San  Fraucisco  in  April,  1875. 


74  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

veracity  and  of  reverence  to  parents,  apart  altogether 
from  the  consequences  thereof  in  the  shape  of  utility, 
nevertheless,  when  traced  to  its  highest  issue,  such 
virtue  is  embraced  in  utility. 

There  is  no  reason  to  believe  that  below  and  out- 
side the  sphere  in  which  free  beings  move  and  operate 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  waste.  Waste,  as  a  possibility, 
begins  with  WILL,  created.  Waste,  as  a  fact,  is  met 
with  only  in  the  natures  of  corrupt,  perverted  liberty. 
Hunt  elsewhere  widely  as  you  choose,  investigate 
carefully  and  observe  accurately,  as  you  progress  in 
your  march,  you  find  every-where  one  fiat  fulfilled, 
" Let  nothing  be  lost"  The  forces  of  nature  march 
to  that  music.  The  laws  of  being  conserve,  combine, 
and  control  in  accord  with  that  intent.  Sunbeams 
never  forget  it,  winds  never  omit  it,  atoms  never  re- 
fuse it  homage,  planets  incessantly  obey  it,  comets 
tirelessly  embody  it,  fountains  flash  to  its  music,  rain- 
drops patter  to  its  melody,  rivulets  flow  on  forever, 
glancing,  prattling,  moving  responsive  to  its  far- 
reaching  whisper.  Seasons  hear  and  reverence  it. 
Lightnings  gleam  and  quiver  with  its  vivid  potency. 
Clouds  float  propelled  by  its  mandate  and  the  snow- 
flake  falls  and  melts  before  the  soft  breathing  of  this 
august  behest.  The  insect  and  the  vulture,  the  parasitic 
moss  and  the  architectural  ant — the  crumbling  granite 
of  the  hoary  hill  and  the  ceaseless  evolutions  of  the 
unseen  air,  wafting  vapor  and  winging  fruitful  seeds 
to  fitting  habitations  of  growth — all  proclaim  the 
sovereignty  of  this  divine  law  1  No  waste  of  force 
— no  waste  of  matter — no  waste  of  life  around,  below 


"WASTE."  75 

man.  The  end  proposed  fails  not,  whether  in  the 
spaces  where  systems  revolve,  where  life  swarms,  where 
energies  incessant  play.  Beauty  adorns  ;  bounty  pro- 
vides ;  strength  upholds;  skill  guards;  bliss  over- 
flows ;  being  is  wedded  to  well  being ;  order  is  linked 
to  obedience. 

Just  at  this  season  *  what  an  impression  of  profu- 
sion seizes  our  minds  as  we  look  forth  upon  creation ! 
What  an  unlocking  of  her  forces !  What  an  unseal- 
ing of  her  springs!  What  an  overflowing  of  her 
treasures!  What  throngs  of  moving,  living  things, 
above  in  the  night  air,  below  in  the  upturned  and  in- 
cense-breathing soil,  around  in  the  gleam  of  fairy 
wings,  the  dancings  of  enameled  and  many-colored 
insects !  Hedge-rows  ablaze — gardens  aglow !  Myriad 
leaves  welcome  the  sunlight — myriad  flowers  unfold 
their  petals.  Life  throngs  upon  us,  carols  around  us. 
Every  spot  is  a  home ;  every  blade  a  pasture-ground  ; 
every  drop  a  palace  of  life — and  all  so  gladsome. 
Care,  there  is  none ;  sigh  heaves  not ;  tear  falls  not ; 
nor  fretfulness  chafes.  Motion  is  grace,  and  func- 
tion is  fullness  of  joy.  Waters  swarm ;  rivers  and 
pools,  lakes  and  oceans  are  tenanted  by  populations  as 
vast  in  their  numbers  as  they  are  varied  in  their  forms 
and  colors  and  habits  and  periods  of  growth,  maturity, 
and  decay. 

Space  is  full.  Bounds  stretch  beyond  bounds. 
Mighty  glasses  swell  the  pomp  of  midnight  skies. 
Stars  move  in  double  groups  or  binary.  They  move 
in  masses  defying  sight  to  number  them.  Their  beams 

*  April 


76  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

stain  the  dome  and  steep  it  in  light.  They  still  re- 
cede, they  yet  ascend !  How  they  blaze !  how  they 
wheel!  how  they  maintain  their  balance  and  sustain 
their  flights!  Now  I  am  encompassed  by,  O  how 
great  a  "  cloud  of  witnesses ! "  Now  I  sail  past  a 
solitary  islet  in  that  vast  ocean  of  space.  Now  I 
am  in  the  midst  of  an  archipelago  of  suns.  Their 
splendors  blind  me.  Their  pomp  oppresses  me !  And 
they  are  the  abodes  of  life.  They  teem  with  life. 
Hark !  they  are  glad  with  life.  What  is  the  thought, 
the  overmastering  thought,  pressed  in  upon  my  spirit 
by  all  this?  Profusion,  sumptuousness,  munificence, 
opulence  of  resources.  His  riches  in  glory. 

There  is  opulence  of  odor  and  of  sound.  There 
is  opulence  of  color  and  of  bliss.  There  is  opulence 
of  energy  and  of  vitality.  There  is  opulence  of  com- 
plex forms  and  conditions  of  existence.  No  stint 
shocks  us — no  parsimony  stares  upon  us.  Amplitude ! 
Affluence !  These  confront  us  "  behind  and  before." 
These  compass  our  path  and  our  "  lying  down."  "  The 
wings  of  the  morning  "  cannot  bear  me  where  they  are 
not.  And  "  to  the  uttermost  parts  of  the  sea,"  behold 
their  royalty  and  rapturous  rule.  No  eye  created 
ever  swept  the  whole ;  no  ear  created  ever  choired 
with  the  many-voiced  acclaim  ascending  from  them  ; 
no  heart  created  ever  heaved  responsive  to  the  mag- 
nificence of  their  great  argument.  Yet  we  dare  not 
mention  waste.  Though  no  human  eye  caught  the 
splendor,  the  divine  one  did.  Though  no  human 
spirit  exulted  in  the  contemplation,  the  divine  is  re- 
joiced in  His  handiwork.  He  looked  upon  the  modest 


"  WASTE."  77 

flower  with  complaisant  delight.  He  marked  the 
power  of  the  sunbeam  as  it  suffused  the  cloudlet  with 
sapphire  hue.  He  drank  in  the  melody  of  brooklet 
and  of  bulbul  as  they  floated  and  echoed  through 
tangled  and  interlacing  foliage  and  branchlet.  And 
as  in  the  beauty  wherein  the  whole  reposed  He  beheld 
the  shadow  of  His  own  eternal  delectation,  even  to 
His  heart,  "  behold  it  was  very  good  !  " 

There  is  no  waste  in  the  realm  of  the  beautiful. 
That  there  is  beauty  in  this  fair  world  who  denies  ? 
That  there  is  beauty  every-where  closer  acquaintance 
with  nature  but  confirms.  It  is  found  in  places  most 
unlikely.  It  is  found  in  objects  most  unpromising. 
It  is  found  in  stem  and  leaf.  It  is  found  in  shell  and 
in  insect.  It  is  found  in  creeping  and  winged  life. 
It  is  found  in  limb  and  in  feather.  It  is  found  in 
form  and  in  color.  It  is  seen  in  motion  and  in  mass. 
It  is  heard  in  the  hum  of  the  bee  and  in  murmur  of 
dove.  It  breathes  in  the  zephyr  and  speaks  in  the 
flashing  fountain.  It  sighs  through  the  forest  and  it 
claps  its  hands  in  exhilarant  billow.  It  looks  out  from 
the  eyelids  of  the  morning  and  globes  its  form  in  the 
mellow  starlight  of  the  evening.  It  molds  the  un- 
dulations of  the  landscape  and  weaves  the  many-tinted 
robes  wherewith  the  seasons  vesture  the  old  earth.  It , 
lurks  in  the  eye  of  the  gazelle  and  in  the  graceful 
contour  of  the  antelope.  Its  footfalls  are  heard  in 
the  echo,  and  its  footprints  impressed  upon  the  fields 
where  daisies  cluster  and  the  hills  where  eagles  nurse 
their  callow  broods.  Children  feel  its  spell.  Maidens 
inhale  its  inspiration.  Sorrow  forgets  to  weep  in  its 


78          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

presence.  Age  renews  its  youth  amid  its  sweet  sere- 
nities. It  refines  the  vulgar.  It  spiritualizes  the 
gross.  Painters  reflect  it  from  the  canvas.  Poets 
are  but  interpreters  of  its  mystery  and  meaning.  All 
beings  yield  it  homage,  and  all  true  hearts  long  to 
wear  its  livery ! 

Let  us  now  talk  of,  first,  waste  intellect.  The  quan- 
tity of  this  order  of  waste  will  not  at  once  strike  us. 
But  the  longer  we  investigate  the  more  depressing 
must  be  the  impression  made  by  the  reality.  I  talk 
not  now  of  deficient  education — of  half-developed 
minds — of  inharmoniously  unfolded  minds — of  stunted, 
shriveled  minds — of  minds  whose  memory  has  been 
cultivated  at  the  expense  of  their  judgment;  whose 
sense  of  the  beautiful  has  never  been  wooed  into  the 
service  of  the  perception  of  the  true ;  whose  sympathies 
have  never  been  enlisted  in  the  service  of  their  reason  ; 
who  have  no  knowledge  of  the  intellectual  tools  where- 
with they  are  to  quarry  and  carve  for  themselves  the 
solid  blocks  of  truth  out  of  which  they  are  to  fashion 
a  temple  of  truth  within  their  deathless  souls. 

I  talk  rather  of  that  other  education  with  which  a 
man  has  himself  personally  to  do.  Every  educated 
man  is  a  debtor  to  his  tutors,  and  much  more  a  debtor 
to  himself,  after  having  passed  from  the  guardianship 
of  such  masters.  It  is  what  we  do  with  ourselves  in 
the  years  revolving  subsequent  to  our  school  life.  It 
is  this  which  solicits  our  notice.  Having  found  out 
the  number  of  our  senses  and  powers — their  duties, 
relations,  and  functions  ;  having  laid  in  a  fair  store  of 
the  first  principles — the  rudiments  of  knowledge; 


"WASTE."  79 

then,  in  the  noble  exercise  of  self-reliance,  to  move 
forth  fronting  life,  man,  nature,  and  from  all  learn- 
ing, and  by  all  gaining  truth,  wisdom,  power — this 
is  the  problem  of  life. 

The  books  which  form  my  library  are  to  become 
the  chief  educators  of  my  mental  being.  Reading  is 
to  be  my  great  chief  factor.  What  I  am  may  be  as 
speedily  inferred  from  my  books  as  from  my  com- 
panions. My  mental  tastes  incline  me — dispose  me — 
control  me  in  the  one  as  in  the  other. 

The  reading  of  the  day  is  not  very  much  more  than 
waste !  No  reading  is  worthy  of  a  man  which  does  not 
command  attention,  compel  earnestness,  and  constrain 
to  persevering  fixedness  of  thought.  The  majority 
of  books  to-day  are  but  "  thinking-made-easy "  vol- 
umes. Their  authors  perform  the  vicarious  work  of 
thinking  for  us.  They  chew  the  food  which  we  then 
masticate.  They  dilute  the  milk  of  life.  Coming 
from  them  it  is  such  milk  of  thought  as  Tom  Sheri- 
dan wrote  about  to  his  mother  that  the  London  lodging- 
house  keepers  had  furnished  him,  "  thrice-skimmed  and 
sky-blue."  Over  these  volumes  no  brow  is  corrugated 
with  thought.  Reading  these  pages  you  are  never 
compelled  to  close  the  book  upon  your  finger  and 
thumb  wliile  you  engage  in  carrying  out  the  thought 
suggested  by  the  writer  to  some  of  his  wider  and  re- 
moter issues  and  ultimates.  He  digs  not  in  gold 
mines.  No,  he  merely  remelts  old,  worn-out,  clipped 
and  sweated  coin,  and  remolds  and  restamps  it,  after 
having  sadly  deteriorated  its  value  by  alloy  of  baser 
metal.  The  newspaper  has  emasculated  thought.  The 


SO  GUAKD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

magazine  lias  enervated  mind.  Feebleness,  superficial- 
ity, and  enormous  pretentiousness  of  universal  knowl- 
edge prevail.  Men  have  no  time  to  think.  Youths 
are'  impatient  of  the  sobriety  of  truth.  Glitter  and 
glare,  blaze  and  brilliancy,  sparkling  antithesis  and 
startling  asseveration — these  win  attention,  bear  their 
producer  high  to  fame,  and  speed  on  the  decomposi- 
tion of  the  mental  life  of  the  age.  Every  man  must 
know  every  thing.  No  one  ever  confesses  ignorance 
upon  any  theme  or  topic.  Each  man  is  a  locomotive 
"Appleton's  Encyclopedia."  Who  could  survive  the 
disgrace  of  confessing  non-acquaintance  with  the  last 
utterances  of  Spencer,  and  the  final  result  of  Tyndall's 
most  recent  analysis?  ~No  one  is  hero  enough  to 
acknowledge  that  he  does'not  know  every  tiling.  And 
thus  the  multitude  walk  in  a  vain  show.  They  are 
fed  on  ashes  and  banquet  on  husks. 

Read  the  best  books.  Read  them  until  you  have 
mastered  them.  Read  them  until  you  can  give  an 
outline  or  analysis  of  their  argument.  Read  them 
until  they  have  become  incorporated  with  your  soul's 
essence,  so  that,  if  you  could  bleed  soul,  from  the 
lance-wound  there  should  leap  out  the  distilled  quint- 
essence of  the  mastered  volume. 

Select  a  topic  for  study  and  reading.  Fix  yourself 
upon  it.  Talk  about  it ;  write  about  it.  Concentrate 
all  available  light  of  information  upon  it.  Make  it 
your  own  by  such  processes.  Not  till  then  turn  from 
it  to  another.  Thus  you  win  ample  territory  in  the 
immense  domain  of  knowledge,  and  climb  to  right 
royal  rank  in  the  noblest  of  all  sovereignties. 


"WASTE."  81 

v 

Aim  at  perfect  mastery  over  your  faculties  of  think- 
ing. Seek  accuracy  of  observation,  clearness  of  con- 
ception. Bring  the  fancy  into  complete  obedience  to 
the  reason,  and  prove  ambitious  of  the  might  of  ab- 
straction by  whose  magic  influence  you  may  think  on 
without  distraction,  though  winds  howl  and  lightnings 
gleam,  and  servants  sweep,  and  children  tumble  and 
toss  and  scream  and  yell  around  your  blissfully  serene 
spirit. 

One  great  cause  of  waste  intellect  is  to  be  found  in 
desultory  reading.  Reading  whatever  comes  up — the 
scrap  of  gossip,  the  paragraph  of  fashion,  the  essay 
on  base-ball,  the  article  upon  culture  of  fish,  the  last 
new  novel  or  tale.  Nothing  of  this  sort  can  stir  the 
spirit,  challenge  its  forces,  bid  forth  its  sinewy  energies, 
or  nurture  other  than  a  flabby,  flimsy  and  filmy  false- 
hood in  the  shape  of  man. 

There  is  waste  in  the  realm  of  emotion.  Man  is 
not  solely  intellect,  nor  purely  will.  He  is  as  rich  in 
emotion  as  in  either  of  the  former  endowments. 
Feeling  finds  its  center  in  his  heart  as  intellect  in  his 
head.  In  popular  language,  feeling  lies  midway  be- 
tween thought  and  will.  Thought  is  to  arouse 
feeling.  Feeling  is  to  move  will.  The  truly  great- 
est men  in  the  broadest  sense  have  ever  been  opulent 
in  feeling.  High  as  their  intellects  soared,  so  ample 
and  profound  their  hearts  dispread  out  and  beneath. 
The  emotions  are  varied,  complex.  They  are  forces, 
but  ever  subject  to  the  bidding  of  intellect  and 
conscience. 

Doubtless  there  is  not  an  emotion  of  the  heart  for 


82  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

» 

whose  gratification  there  is  not  an  object  in  nature,  or 
a  principle  and  property  in  God.  From  gratitude  up 
to  reverence,  from  pity  up  to  admiration,  from  fear 
up  to  the  love  which  casteth  out  fear,  from  tender- 
ness to  terror,  from  beauty  to  sublimity,  from  pen- 
sive resignation  up  to  exultant  and  triumphant  fruition 
"  where  there  are  pleasures  for  evermore,"  from  for- 
giveness down  to  never-dying  revenge ;  and  o'er  the 
dread  and  dreary  range  of  the  malignant  and  vin- 
dictive and  retaliative  and  avenging  passions,  what  a 
mysterious  region  is  all  this  of  our  wonder-breeding 
nature ! 

Our  emotions  exist  in  us  as  latent  potentialities. 
They  are  the  great  levers  and  motive  forces  of  our 
being.  They  are  not  in  us  merely  as  susceptibilities 
of  and  capacities  for  luxurious  living.  To  excite  feel- 
ing is  not  the  ultimate  end  of  truth — of  any  truth ; 
but  to  move  will  into  vigorous  action  through  the 
intervention  of  emotion.  For  this  end  truth  appeals 
to  the  heart.  Rarely  are  men  impelled  to  any  action, 
borne  into  any  enterprise,  by  the  force  or  impetus  of 
pure  logic.  Enthusiasm  there  must  be  to  effect  any 
noble  work.  Perhaps  there  are  beings  so  superbly  lofty 
in  their  loyalty  to  truth  and  duty  and  God,  that  on  their 
tranquil  spirits  no  rushing,  mighty  wind  need  play  to 
impel  them  to  the  discharge  of  duty  the  most  ardu- 
ous and  enterprises  the  most  heroic.  Certainly  such 
is  not  the  nature  we  call  human.  Both  wind  and 
wave  must  help  us  on  the  great  main  of  honorable 
and  holy  toil. 

Who  can  estimate  the  mechanical  energy  latent  in 


"WASTE."  83 

the  rivulets  and  rivers,  in  the  cataracts  and  cascades, 
in  the  currents  and  Gulf  Streams  of  our  globe  ?  What 
engines  could  be  propelled — what  levers  plied — what 
hammers  heaved — what  blocks  hurled — what  spindles 
whirled,  by  the  developed  and  applied  force  now  lurk- 
ing in  every  pool  and  pond — in  every  lake  and  tor- 
rent, in  every  estuary  and  bog,  in  every  billow  that 
breaks,  and  in  every  foam-bubble  that  bursts  within  the 
circumference  of  the  waters  of  our  planet !  All  that 
but  symbolizes  the  unwrought  might  reposing  in  the 
emotion  depths  of  human  hearts. 

The  countless  activities  of  the  human  world  to-day 
are  all  attributable  immediately  to  the  force  of  feel- 
ing. The  activities  of  the  scientist  in  his  scrutiny  of 
nature ;  the  activities  of  the  philosopher  in  his  search 
after  first  principles ;  the  activities  of  the  artist  in  his 
reach  after  ideal  perfection  in  sound,  form,  color; 
the  activities  of  the  merchant  in  his  pursuit  of  wealth ; 
the  activities  of  the  traveler  in  his  explorations  of 
untracked  forests  and  north-west  passages ;  the  activi- 
ties of  the  warrior  in  his  quest  of  empire ;  the  activi- 
ties of  the  philanthropist  in  his  search  after  and  miti- 
gation of  woe;  the  activities  of  statesmen  in  their 
endeavor  to  uplift  nations  and  conserve  peace  and 
freedom  ;  the  activities  of  the  missionary  in  his  pur- 
suit of  the  weary  wanderers  from  God ;  the  activities 
of  the  saint  in  his  panting  after  fuller  love  and  riper 
fitness  for  the  eternal  services  of  heaven — all  these, 
and  more,  are  to-day  the  immediate  results  of  emotion. 
Sometimes  it  is  gentle ;  sometimes  torrent-like ;  now 

without  a  ripple ;  now  impetuous  as  the  dash  of  cata- 

7 


S-4  GUARD'S  LECTUEES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

ract — -here  vast  in  volume,  yonder  narrow,  shallow 
in  channel  and  in  bed. 

And  yet  there  is  an  untold  quantity  of  feeling- 
force  running  to  waste,  evaporated  or  dissipated. 

The  emotion  which  works  not  to  wise  ends  is  wasted. 
The  emotion  evoked  in  the  presence  of  wrong-doing, 
and  which  expends  itself  rather  in  terms  of  denuncia- 
tion around  the  coffee-urn  than  in  prompt  effort  to 
uproot  the  wrong,  is  "  waste."  The  emotion  which 
dims  the  eye  and  flushes  the  cheek,  and  makes  tremu- 
lous the  voice  while  a  tale  of  veritable  social  woe  is 
read  or  repeated,  and  expends  itself  in  tears  of  com- 
miseration or  feeble  resolution  to  alleviate  the  distress ; 
yet  pays  DO  visit  to  the  house  of  sorrow,  nor  sacrifices 
a  single  luxury  to  allay  the  agony,  is  "  waste,"  and 
something  worse. 

The  emotion  which  floods  to  overflowing  the  heart 
of  the  parent  who  has  heard  of  the  initiatory  steps  of 
his  son  in  ways  of  evil,  and  leads  but  to  a  simpering 
expression  and  a  vacillating  exercise  of  parental 
authority  in  checking  the  incipient  vices  of  his  boy — 
like  old  Eli's — is  not  merely  waste,  but  is  sure  to  re- 
sult in  disaster  of  fortune  to  the  child,  and  perhaps 
ignoble  and  untimely  death  by  broken-heartedness  to 
the  weak-willed  father. 

The  emotion  aroused  by  faithful,  pungent,  loving 
appeal  from  Christian  pulpit  and  pastors,  confronting 
the  soul  with  its  own  sins,  and  encompassing  the  spirit 
witli  the  consequences  of  its  own  iniquities  here  and 
hereafter ;  emotions  of  dread  and  of  remorse,  of  self 
recrimination  and  deep  contrition  ;  emotions  awakened 


"  WASTE."  85 

by  a  sense  of  ingratitude,  meanness,  baseness,  wrong- 
doing, but  which  lead  not  to  instant  separation  from 
the  accursed  thing  and  accursed  companions,  and 
prompt  and  persevering  pursuit  after  that  mercy  which 
abundantly  pardons  and  that  grace  which  gives  do- 
minion over  every  damning  habit,  reaching  no  further 
than  to  temporary  change  of  conduct  and  transient 
abstinence  from  forbidden  ground,  is  waste,  and  more 
than  waste. 

That  emotion  which,  under  varied  appliances '  of 
religion,  leaps  forth  and  runs  over  in  means  of  grace 
and  grand  gatherings  of  religion,  when  noble  views 
of  truth  are  presented,  and  lofty  types  of  goodness 
set  forth,  and  worthy  possibilities  of  holiness  are  held 
out,  and  mighty  appeals  are  pressed  home  upon  reason, 
heart,  and  conscience,  but  which  reach  no  further 
than  an  alleluia  shout,  is  waste.  I  fear  the  alleluia 
shout  too  often,  instead  of  turning  the  steam  upon  the 
engine  to  move  it  forward,  merely — like  the  letting 
off  of  steam  from  the  steam-pipe  of  .a  locomotive — lets 
loose  into  thin  air  the  struggling,  pent-up,  but  evanes- 
cent energy,  and  by  so  much  expends  for  nought  the 
water  and  the  fuel  employed  for  generating  the  force. 

And  alas !  to-day  too  much  of  this  form  of  "  waste  " 
meets  our  eye. 

Sentimentalism  is  an  utterable  curse.  It  strangles 
no  vice,  chastens  no  haughtiness,  curbs  no  desire, 
breeds  no  charity,  infuses  no  gentleness,  makes  no 
sacrifices,  lifts.no  heavy  burdens,  binds  up  no  broken 
hearts,  plucks  up  no  root  of  bitterness,  cheers  no  deso- 
late life,  distills  no  anodyne  over  fretted  and  chafed 


86  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

spirits,  endures  no  hardness  in  battling  with  wrong, 
risks  no  delicate  sensibility  in  contact  with  coarse  selfish- 
ness— feeds  on  sighs,  exhausts  itself  in  the  tears  with 
which  its  perfumed  handkerchief  is  slightly,  delicately 
moistened,  and  leaves  the  world  to  wail  its  dirges  to  the 
stars,  and  forget  its  anguish  in  the  oblivion  of  the  tomb. 

To  work  up  feeling  into  fixed  habits  of  earnest, 
vigorous,  self-denying  goodness,  so  that,  whether  the 
commiseration  be  strong  or  feeble,  the  known  suffer- 
ing shall  win  regard  and  secure  relief — so  that  whether 
there  be  rapture  and  ecstasy  of  experience  in  Chris- 
tian life,  the  enthroned  force  of  settled  principles  of 
duty  shall  impel  the  humble  one,  without  faltering, 
without  fainting,  up  the  steep  cliffs  of  duty  and  o'er 
the  hot  sands  and  through  the  stern  and  threatening 
defiles  of  self-conquering  endeavor  after  all  that  may 
become  a  follower  of  Christ ;  until  to  see  the  right  is 
to  do  it ;  to  know  the  wrong  is  to  crush  it ;  to  hear  the 
call  for  help  is  to  respond  to  it  without  delay,  hesita- 
tion, or  langiiidness  —  this  is  the  end  to  be  sought 
after  by  all  such  as  would  not,  in  the  realm  of  motion, 
suffer  waste. 

That  very  brilliant  expositor  of  science,  that  very 
successful  discoverer  of  not  a  few  of  nature's  secrets — 
that  very  daring  knight  in  the  tournament  so  character- 
istic of  our  age — the  conflict  between  science  and  re- 
ligion— Dr.  Tyndall,  in  his  now  celebrated  address 
before  the  Association  for  the  Promotion  of  Science, 
has  declared  it  to  be  his  opinion  that  the  fitting  region 
in  which  religion  should  expatiate  and  dispense  its 
benefactions  is  the  realm  of  the  feelings. 


"WASTE."  87 

One  would  like  to  know  from  my  brilliant  fellow- 
countryman  what  he  means  by  religion,  so  that  we 
may  test  the  soundness  or  the  fallacy  of  his  statement. 
That  religion  has  to  do  with  the  feelings  every  one 
knows.  That  our  holy  religion  has  to  do  with  the 
feelings  needs  not  to  be  demonstrated  to  you.  Its 
central  virtue  is  love,  both  God  ward  and  manward; 
and  love  is  the  noblest  of  the  feelings.  But  one  would 
like  to  know  from  Dr.  Tyndall  how  can  love  exist  and 
act  except  in  the  presence  of  a  known  object  fitted  to 
beget  the  emotion  ?  How  love  that  of  which  you  are 
ignorant,  of  whose  qualities  of  character  you  are  igno- 
rant, of  whose  deeds  of  goodness  you  are  ignorant? 
But  if  to  love  we  must  know,  then  at  once  religion  is 
seen  embracing  the  region  of  the  understanding  as 
certainly  as  the  region  of  the  feelings. 

Religion  is  reverence  and  adoration.  But  how  feel 
reverence  for  Him  of  whose  existence  I  am  ignorant, 
or  of  whose  sublime  perfections  I  am  ignorant,  or  of 
whose  operations  as  creator,  ruler,  I  am  ignorant  ? 
And  if  there  be  no  religion  where  there  is  no  reverence 
and  no  reverence  where  there  is  no  perception  of  peer- 
less perfection,  and  no  perception  of  excellence  where 
there  is  no  exercise  of  the  understanding  in  searching 
after  and  studying  God,  then  once  more  do  we  per- 
ceive that  religion  of  necessity  embraces  the  realm  of 
reason  as  certainly  as  that  of  the  feelings. 

Religion  is  profound  resignation  and  submission  to 
and  acquiescence  in  the  rule  and  dispensation  of  God. 
But  how  submit  or  acquiesce,  except  as  I  perceive  the 
rectitude  of  the  character,  the  wisdom  of  the  rule,  and 


83  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  beneficence  and  faithfulness  of  Deity  concerning 
and  over  me  ?  How  perceive  all  this  except  as  I  shall 
have  studied  his  character,  pondered  his  plans,  sur- 
veyed his  method  of  rule  as  it  extends  over  the  domain 
of  human  history  ?  Without  these  my  very  action  is 
fatalism,  my  submission  is  stolid  stupidity,  my  tran- 
quillity the  repose  of  mental  stagnancy.  If,  then,  there 
cannot  be  religion  where  there  is  not  submission,  nor 
submission  where  there  is  not  intelligent  knowledge 
of  the  will  and  purpose  of  Jehovah,  and  if  this  de- 
mands the  utmost  exercise  of  mental  might,  then  once 
more  do  we  see  how  religion  must  of  necessity  em- 
brace the  vast  region  of  the  reason  as  entirely  as  that  of 
feeling.  And  hence  our  religion  is  as  certainly  truth 
as  it  is  love  /  and  what  God  hath  joined  together  let 
no  man  put  asunder. 

Dr.  Tyndall  is  more  at  home  in  descanting  upon  the 
laws  of  light,  the  formation  of  glaciers,  the  action  of 
water,  the  properties  of  gases,  the  principles  of  sound, 
heat,  and  motion,  in  fact  more  at  home  in  the  regions 
of  mere  matter  than  in  those  of  spirit ;  and  were  he 
as  feeble  an  expounder  of  these  as  of  the  elements  of 
man's  inner  life  and  nobler  being,  then  his  name  would 
never  have  been  caligraphed  upon  the  scroll  of  modern 
science. 

Human  life,  apart  from  immortality,  is  waste.  Look 
at  humanity  in  this  light :  Man  starts  from  a  low  level. 
He  begins  life  a  very  feeble  thing.  He  enters  upon 
life  with  but  a  minimum  capital.  He  is  the  extreme 
of  helplessness.  His  instincts  are  few  and  they  are 
narrow  in  their  range.  Upon  others  he  is  largely  de- 


<k  WASTE."  89 

pendent.  He  is  to  acquire  the  use  of  his  bodily  pow- 
ers and  gain  the  first  elements  of  knowledge  through 
experiment  and  toil.  Gradually  his  mind  unfolds  and 
his  faculties  quicken.  He  fails  and  learns  from  failure. 
He  wins  and  moves  forth  to  fairer  acquisitions.  Na- 
ture woos  him  to  study  her.  Art  invites  him  to  sit  at 
her  feet.  Virtue  persuades  him  to  accept  her  friend- 
ship and  her  guardianship.  Habits  of  goodness  are 
contracted.  Elements  of  nobleness  are  amassed.  Char- 
acter assumes  definiteness  of  shape  and  begins  its  all- 
coutrolh'ng  operations.  Sorrows  chasten  and  refine  it. 
Joys  expand  and  enrich  it.  Struggle  nerves  and  con- 
solidates it.  Temptation  develops  and  compacts  it. 
Time  sees  it  grow  in  unity,  in  symmetry,  in  perma- 
nence. Trials  but  prove  it  strong.  Assaults,  human 
and  demoniac,  declare  it  likely  to  become  one  of  the 
immutabilities  of  the  universe.  And  with  this  intel- 
lect grows  as  well.  Truth  is  loved  and  gained,  knowl- 
edge accumulates,  and  wisdom  grows.  The  inner  eye 
waxes  keen,  the  inner  ear  acute,  to  detect  subtle  beau- 
ties of  color  and  of  sound.  The  mysteries  of  being 
are  explored,  the  problems  of  life  grappled  with ;  great 
principles  are  grasped ;  vast  glimpses  of  the  domain  of 
science  are  attained  ;  the  hidden  springs  of  philosophic 
thought  are  touched.  The  soul  expatiates  in  the 
boundless  realm  of  reab'ty  and  feels  the  nobleness,  the 
glory  of  life.  Bolder  speculation  is  dared ;  fresh 
schemes  are  sketched ;  profounder  possibilities  are  dis- 
covered. The  crust  and  shell  of  things  are  broken ; 
the  deep  places  of  existence  are  looked  down  into  and 
shall  give  up  their  secrets.  Mind  is  stronger  in  limb 


90  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

to  climb,  in  wing  to  soar,  in  vision  to  scan,  in  vigor  to 
utilize,  in  susceptibility  to  enjoy.  Virtue  aids  on  the 
intellect  in  its  endeavors.  Crudity  is  becoming  ma- 
ture. Dimness  is  yielding  to  vividness  of  conception. 
The  soul  knows  and  can  control  its  powers.  Fickle- 
ness of  thought  gives  ways  to  fixedness.  Vaster  gen- 
eralizations become  facilities  of  thinking.  The  basis 
is  laid  for  an  edifice  superb  in  its  proportion,  magni- 
tude, and  embellishments.  The  man  lives  in  every 
nerve,  lives  in  every  pore,  lives  in  every  atom,  lives 
in  every  cell  of  his  complex  being.  Life  is  his  in  its 
intensity  and  avidity.  Deep  is  the  craving  of  the 
spirit.  From  every  banqueting  board  it  retires  hungry. 
All  gained  has  but  enlarged  its  capacity.  Never  did 
it  seem  an  object  of  such  ambition  to  live  as  now. 
And  lo !  when  the  lesson  has  been  mastered,  and  the 
training  and  drill  have  gained  completeness,  and  the 
man  is  fittingly  equipped  for  virtuous  career  and  in- 
tellectual enterprise — in  the  prime  of  his  manhood — 
when  at  the  starting-post  for  an  unlimited  race  —  ho ! 
he  falters,  faints,  falls!  Life  is  no  more.  With  a 
breath  he  enters  the  dusky  realms  of  non-existence. 

"Bury  the  dust.  Scatter  the  lilies.  Heap  high  the 
marble.  Carve  the  epitaph.  Record  the  tale  of  his 
achievements.  But  stoop  lower,  and  in  deeper,  darker 
lines  write  upon  the  marble,  less  perishable  than  he, 

WASTE. 
"Wherefore  hast  thou,  0  God.  made  all  men  in  vain  ? 

Why  endow  man  with  such  a  prodigious  capacity? 
Why  give  him  such  a  range  of  emotions  ?  Why  plant 


«  WASTE."  91 

in  him  such  instinctive,  insatiate  cravings  ?  "Why  be- 
stow on  him  such  a  reach  of  imagination  ?  Why  make 
him  capable  of  such  a  measure  of  progressiveness  ? 
Why  sow  in  his  soul  the  seed-thought  of  immor- 
tality ?  Why  haunt  him  with  the  august  visions  of 
immortality?  Why  permit  the  glamour  of  such  a 
splendid  myth  to  enwrap  him  ?  Why  dig  within  his 
nature  fountain-like  possibilities  but  to  deceive  him  ? 
In  every  other  department  of  being  we  behold  con- 
gruity,  becomingness,  adaptation.  Wherefore  meet 
we  here,  O  great  eternal  One,  the  only  terrible  re- 
versal of  all  this  fitness  and  proportion  ? 

It  cannot  be !  2s  o ;  we  will  not  believe  it.  Man 
shall  live  forever ;  not  the  race — but  the  person,  the 
individual.  He  shall  live  longer  than  the  ancient 
hills  and  the  old  heavens.  He  shall  live  beyond  the 
ages  of  those  stars  and  globes  of  aged  splendor.  He 
shall  outlive  the  hoary  ocean.  Time  is  but  his  infancy. 
Death  but  ushers  him  into  broader,  fuller,  freer  life. 
Eternity  claims  him  as  her  chief  joy,  her  solemn  care. 
On  he  shall  grow.  Up  he  shall  press.  Out  he  shall 
expand.  Forever  young,  he  shall  feel  himself  to 
dwell  in  immortal  youth.  For  with  him  God,  his 
father,  has  shared  his  own  immortality  of  being. 

I  see.  the  more  carefully  I  examine,  that  every  detail 
of  life  is  part  of  a  plan — that  plan  none  other  than  the 
formation  and  education  of  moral  character.  The 
moral  is  the  ultimate  end  and  aim  of  all  things.  It  is 
rightly  so.  If  we  accept  the  existence  of  a  God,  his 
pre-eminence  must  be  not  that  he  is  the  strong  God, 
the  wise  God,  the  bountiful  God,  the  governing  God, 


92  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

but  the  righteous  God.  Hence,  then,  the  ultimate 
end  of  all  things  must  be  perfect  morality,  perfect 
holiness.  And  all  life  is  ordained  to  this  end — not  to 
cultivate  man  as  an  animal,  though  he  need  not  starve 
nor  perish  by  nakedness  in  this  fair  world ;  not 
to  cultivate  man  as  an  intellectuality,  though  there 
is  affluent  provision  for  the  nourishment  and  delecta- 
tion of  the  understanding  in  the  world ;  not  for  the 
education  of  his  aesthetic  being,  though  he  need  not 
perish  for  lack  of  whatsoever  things  are  lovely  in  this 
world  ;  but  life  \$ pre-eminently  moral.  This  is  its  aim. 
This  is  its  mission.  This  is  its  glory.  All  things  are 
so  ordered,  balanced,  measured,  weighed,  that  if  any 
man  desires  a  place  and  sphere  the  best  fitted  to  aid 
him  in  educating  himself  into  the  very  loftiest  rank  of 
moral  greatness,  he  will  find  it  in  the  daily  round,  the 
common  task,  the  normal  responsibilities  of  his  physi- 
cal and  mental  nature.  Here,  then,  is  the  world 
wherein  he  may  safely  graduate,  and  from  whose  uni- 
versity go  forth  fitted  for  any  service,  ready  for  any 
office,  worthy  of  any  society  whose  prime  demand 
shall  be  moral  excellence. 

Whatever  can  train,  whatever  can  test,  moral  prin- 
ciple, whatever  can  knit  it  into  hardihood,  is  here. 
The  malice  and  the  meanness  of  men,  the  purity  and 
the  faithfulness  of  friendship,  the  competition  and  the 
rivalries  of  life,  the  disasters  and  the  victories  of  en- 
deavor, the  honor  and  the  scorn  of  partisans,  the  pinch- 
ings  of  penury  and  the  relaxing  felicities  of  opulence, 
the  burdens  of  domestic  care  and  the  soft  amenities  of 
chosen  and  cultivated  society ;  the  mighty  struggle 


"  WASTE."  93 

between  flesh  and  spirit,  between  sense  and  faith, 
between  present  gratification  and  future  delectation, 
between  personal  aggrandizement  and  public,  patriotic 
good — these  all  bear  a  commission  from  the  great 
God  to  "  help  the  good,  counsel  the  loving,  uphold 
the  battle  for  the  right,  camp  about  him,  waft  invigor- 
ating breezes  o'er  him,  nerve  him  with  sudden  gush  of 
inspiration,  pour  balm  into  his  wounds,  whisper  '  Well 
done ! '  into  his  lonely  spirit,  impel  him,  inspire  him, 
make  him  strong,  make  him  gentle,  make  him  true, 
make  him  noble,  make  him  humble  —  in  one  word, 
educate  him  as  becomes  a  son — an  heir  of  God  !  " 

Arid  when  I  see  a  man  ushered  into  such  a  world 
and  such  a  state  of  things  as  obtains  here,  who  yet  fails 
to  apprehend  his  position  and  his  relation  thereto,  resists 
their  influences,  antagonizes  their  purposes,  perverts 
their  missions,  cherishes  selfishness,  yields  to  sensual- 
ism, ignores  conscience,  and  lives  without  God ;  when 
in  him  I  see  sense  ruling,  flesh  dominant ;  when 
tenderness  cannot  melt  him,  nor  truth  charm  him, 
nor  purity  win  him,  nor  goodness  constrain  him 
nor  God  attract  him ;  when  through  all  this  vast  and 
complicated  system  of  aids  and  helps  to  moral  domi- 
nance, I  see  him  pass  defiant  of  their  power  to  control 
him,  their  skill  to  master  him,  so  that  by  reason  of  his  f 
resistance  to  them  he  waxes  coarser,  ruder,  baser — 
becomes  bereft  of  all  the  fine  feelings  which  once  he 
owned,  and  the  lofty  aspirations  which  once  heaved 
his  spirit ;  his  career  one  unbroken  course  of  squandered 
forces,  opportunities,  appliances,  until  from  earth 
and  from  time  he  passes,  bankrupt  in  all  that  befits  a 


94:  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

moral  being,  and  freighted  with  all  that  fits  him  for 
the  companionship  of  the  ruined  and  qualify  him 
for  eminence  in  perdition,  then  I  look  upon  the  sad- 
dest specimen  of  waste. 

If  any  thing  said  to-night  should  be  so  far  blessed 
by  God  as  to  save  one  soul  here  from  such  a  result, 
then  my  effort  shall  not  have  proved  absolute,  irrep- 
arable, eternal  "  waste." 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  95 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS. 

I  ACKNOWLEDGE  the  fascination  of  such  a 
theme  as  the  history  of  Methodism.  I  confess 
that  I  feel  its  enthrallment ;  and  I  am  happy  to  assert 
the  ever-fresh  delight  with  which  its  study  fills  my 
heart,  as  well  as  the  ever-forceful  stimulus  which  it 
imparts  to  my  being,  urging  me  to  a  nobler  life,  and 
impelling  me  to  a  bolder  endeavor  after  the  lofty 
models  of  greatness,  heroism,  and  holiness  which  it 
presents  for  my  admiring  emulation. 

To  read  of  what  my  forefathers  in  this  Church  did, 
endured,  and  sacrificed  for  their  Master,  that  they 
might  win  souls  from  death  and  fill  our  world  with 
purity,  not  merely  brims  my  eyes  and  nerves  'my 
spirit,  but  covers  me  with  humiliation  and  scorches 
me  with  shame.  For  I  feel,  I  know,  how  unworthily 
I  have  attempted  to  prosecute  the  labors  assigned  me, 
and  how  feebly  I  have  sought  to  enlarge  and  com- 
plete the  work  in  whose  initial  stages  they  displayed 
a  devotion  so  martyr-like  and  a  faith  in  God  so  child- 
like and  so  unwavering.  To  me  the  best  preparation 
for  my  Sabbath  labors  has  ever  been  a  Saturday  even- 
ing communion  with  the  early  Methodist  preachers 
through  the  media  of  their  autobiographies  and  the 
tales  of  their  prowess  as  rehearsed  by  the  historians 
of  our  Church.  And  well  do  I  remember  seeing  my 


98  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

own  father — himself  one  of  the  second  generation — 
spell-bound  by  those  simple  annals  ;  and  have  often 
marked  the  strange  light  which  stole  o'er  his  features, 
and  the  rivulets  of  tears  coursing  down  his  cheeks 
and  damping  the  holy  pages,  as  he  forgot  all  else 
save  the  trust  and  the  trials  and  the  triumphs  of  those 
brawny  and  bronzed,  yet  gentle-hearted,  giants  of 
departed  days. 

O'er  how  many  young  and  chivalrous  spirits  these 
heroes  wielded  their  wizard  wand,  who  dare  say  ?  In 
how  many  drooping  hearts  they  distilled  a  healing 
balm,  from  how  many  they  expelled  demons  of  de- 
spair, eternity  alone  will  declare ! 

Were  they  not  heroes,  though  a  Carlyle  heeded 
them  not,  neither  hath  a  Ralph  Waldo  Emerson  as- 
signed them  a  fresco  in  his  galleries  of  "  Representa- 
tive Men  "  ?  When  another  artist,  such  as  he  whose 
portraits  adorn  the  eleventh  chapter  of  Hebrews,  shall 
arise,  we  may  well  believe  that  from  the  ranks  of  our 
gray  fathers  not  a  few  shall  be  selected  to  embellish 
and  enrjch  the  sacred  halls. 

What  did  they  not  dare?  What  did  they  not  sac- 
rifice? I  see  them  hunted  and  hooted  by  brutal 
mobs.  I  see  them  pelted  with  filth  and  driven  from 
judgment-seats  by  faithless  magistrates.  I  see  them 
branded  with  vile  epithets  and  endnngeoned  in  vile 
prisons.  I  see  them  plunged  in  horse-ponds  and  im- 
pressed by  recruiting-sergeants  for  foreign  war.  I 
see  them  feeding  on  all  sorts  of  fare,  and  famishing 
with  hunger  and  relieved  by  blackberries.  I  see  them 
braving  the  rigors  of  severe  winters  and  the  perils 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  97 

of  flood  and  forest.  I  see  them  slumbering  on  hard- 
est pillows  and  housed  in  lowliest  hovels.  I  see  them 
with  "  threadbare  coats  that  once  were  black,"  and 
remember  how  often  those  coats  had  their  fading 
color  restored  by  log-wood  dye  ;  and  how  often  their 
fairest  sides  were  turned  to  the  sun,  if  haply  decency 
of  aspect  might  be  attained.  I  see  them  in  their 
work,  and  they  are  joyous ;  in  their  trials,  and  they 
are  patient ;  in  their  homes,  and  they  are  contented ; 
in  their  journeyings,  and  the  woods  echo  their  songs  ; 
in  their  closets,  and  they  have  power  with  God ;  in 
their  pulpits,  and  they  have  power  with  man  ;  in 
their  persecutions,  and  they  pray  for  their  enemies ; 
in  their  old  age,  and  they  tell  me  they  have  not  fol- 
lowed "  cunningly  devised  fables ; "  in  their  death- 
hour,  and  they  are  borne  up  on  their  shields — "  where 
the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and  the  weary  are 
at  rest ; "  in  their  final  home,  and,  as  I  ask,  "  "Who 
are  they,  and  whence  came  they?"  lo!  as  the  swell 
of  many  waters  the  response :  "  These  are  they 
who  came  up  out  of  great  tribulation,  and  have 
washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb ;  thenceforth  they  are  before  the 
throne ! " 

All  hail !  All  hail !  ye  conquerors  of  earth  and 
hell !  War-notes  shall  not  disturb  you,  nor  clarion's 
voice  summon  you  again  to  battle  !  Rest,  warrior, 
rest !  Ye  seed-sowers  of  imperishable  germs !  the 
biting  winds  of  spring  no  longer  smite ;  the  toil  of 
breaking  up  the  arid  soil  shall  no  more  waste  or  make 
you  faint !  Rest !  for  the  harvest-time  shall  be  your 


08  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

great  reward  !  Ye  benefactors  of  your  species  !  the 
malice  and  the  scorn  of  men  cannot  molest  you  ;  nor 
the  insult  and  the  strife  of  tongues  enshadow  your 
serene  spirits ;  men  shall  yet  rise  up  to  call  you 
blessed,  and  to  build  monuments  in  their  transformed 
and  hallowed  lives  commemorative  of  your  holy 
deeds  !  May  your  heroism  inspire  us — your  zeal  glow 
upon  our  hearts — your  deeds  rouse  us  from  languor 
and  cowardice  into  fair  and  faithful  emulation  of  the 
spirit  which  nerved  your  hearts  and  lifted  you  from 
feebleness  and  obscurity  into  peerless  and  unwasting 
renown  ! 

The  study  of  Methodistic  history  confirms  our  faith 
in  God's  providential  regard  for  and  rule  over  our 
world  and  our  race.  To  me  this  lesson  is  as  power- 
fully taught  by  it  as  by  the  history  of  the  Jewish 
nation. 

I  thank  God  for  my  faith  in  his  personal  adminis- 
tration of  the  affairs  of  our  planet  and  its  inhabit- 
ants. My  faith  rests  upon  the  sure  sayings  of  God's 
word,  and  is  liberally  strengthened  by  a  study  of  the 
history  of  mankind,  but  especially  by  the  history  of 
the  Church  of  Christ. 

But  for  faith  in  this  fact  we  would  be,  of  all  men, 
most  miserable.  Terrible,  were  it  true,  to  be  com- 
pelled to  accept  it  as  an  established  fact :  God  rules 
not  over,  cares  not  for,  takes  no  interest  in,  is  indif- 
ferent to,  the  fate,  the  lot,  the  destiny  of  this  orb  and 
its  teeming  population  !  Dreadful  should  be  our  state 
of  feeling  were  we  driven  to  accept  the  last  results  of 
so-called  scientific  investigation  and  induction,  that 


WESLEY  Aim  HIS  HELPERS.  99 

Deity  may  have  made  and  ordered  all  things,  or  may. 
not ;  that  if  he  did,  he  interferes  not  with  the  course 
of  nature  ;  that  ages  beyond  number  he,  perhaps,  im- 
pressed or  inwrought  certain  forces  and  modes  of 
action  upon  all  that  then  was  ;  and,  having  wound  up 
the  mechanism  and  touched  into  oscillation  its  pendu- 
lum, and  let  loose  its  wheels  arid  springs,  since  then 
he  has  retired  within  himself — heedless  of  the  evolu- 
tions of  the  gigantic  machine  ;  beyond  the  reach  of 
creature's  cry,  of  spirit's  song,  of  man's  appeal ;  self- 
absorbed  and  impassive  ;  a  slave  fettered  by  his  own 
hands,  gyved  by  his  own  laws  ;  a  captive  imprisoned 
within  the  walls  "  great  and  high  "  of  nature  and  of 
force — walls  whose  foundation  his  own  power  laid, 
whose  glittering  turrets  his  own  skill  piled,  whose 
immovable  buttresses  and  battlements  his  own  right 
arm  upheaved,  and  whose  perpetuated  endurance 
dates  back  to  the  omnific  fiat  of  his  own  decrees; 
that  not  only  can  he  not  add  a  new  law  or  suspend 
an  old  one,  but  that  he  is  even  denied  the  right  to 
modify  the  action  and  effects  of  olden  laws  by  special 
combination  of  two  or  more  of  them,  so  as  to  further 
an  end  grander,  holier,  than  any  effected  by  their  un- 
deviating  or  their  remorseless  and  undiscriminating 
revolution  1 

No  truth  of  inspiration  is  more  clearly,  more  fully, 
more  frequently  taught  than  the  special  interest  felt 
in  the  world's  weal  by  its  Maker  and  Builder.  The 
cross  sums  up  all  other  arguments  into  concentrated 
might,  and  renders  the  demonstration  irrefutable  and 

the  fact  indubitable.     That  cannot  be  a  forgotten  race 

8 


100         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

for  whose  redemption  divine  tears  fell,  divine  blood 
flowed.  Nothing  that  appertains  to  the  interests  of 
such  a  race  is  unworthy  the  notice  or  beneath  the 
overruling  sovereignty  of  Him  who  "  so  loved "  it. 
That  gift  is  the  pledge  of  all  others  necessary  to  the 
consummation  of  the  design  for  which  it  was  be- 
stowed. It  includes  all  others  necessary  to  this  end. 
That  end  is  none  other  than  the  moral  and  spiritual 
redemption  of  our  humanity,  its  elevation,  purifica- 
tion, civilization  up  into  God's  ideal  of  what  a  race 
may  and  ought  to  be. 

And  just  when  his  special  interference  is  demanded 
by  the  condition  of  mankind  does  he  move  forth 
from  behind  the  mysterious  drapery  in  which  he  is 
enfolded,  and  furnish  the  needed  and  the  fitting  help 
for  the  emergency.  The  First  Promise,  the  Flood,  the 
Calling  of  Abraham,  the  Mission  of  Moses,  the  Ad- 
vent of  the  Messiah,  the  Upraising  of  Luther  and  his 
compeers,  and  the  Birth  of  Methodism  are  illustra- 
tions of  the  law  of  the  benevolent  plan  of  Deity. 

Wesley  was  born  while  Anne  reigned.  He  died 
when  the  third  George  ruled  o'er  the  destinies  of 
Britain. 

During  his  life-time  Addison  issued  his  inimitable 
"  Spectator,"  and  Johnson  compiled  his  dictionary. 
While  he  lived  Reynolds  caught,  transfixed,  and  im- 
mortalized the  beauty,  grace,  and  dignity  of  England's 
fairest,  noblest,  and  most  gifted  sons  and  daughters, 
by  the  sorcery  of  his  unequaled,  fresh,  and  time- 
defying  colors  ;  Cook  circumnavigated  the  globe  ;  and 
Wolfe,  having  conquered  the  French  upon  the  height 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  101 

of  Montmorency,  won  for  Britain  the  grandest  of  her 
colonial  possessions.    During  his  life,  England  planted 
her  foot  and*  flag  beneath  the  Himalayas ;  and  Clive  / 
and  Hastings  climbed  to  immortality  of  fame  or  in-  j 
famy. 

While  Wesley  lived,  Washington  saw  the  light  of 
life,  learned  obedience  by  things  which  he  suffered  in 
colonial  struggles  with  the  French  and  Indians,  and,  - 
though  he  knew  it  not,  gained  the  necessary  training 
fitting  him  for  the  solemn,  sacred  and  sublime  trust 
to  be  committed  to  his  hands  and  head  and  heart,  by 
his  confiding  fellows  in  the  struggle  for  the  inde- 
pendence of  the  thirteen  States  of  America. 

While  Wesley  moved  thousands  by  his  calm  but 
mighty  eloquence,  Burke  spell-bound  the  most  critical 
and  exacting  audience  in  the  Old  World  by  the 
splendor  of  his  imagination,  the  opulence  of  his  learn- 
ing, the  breadth  of  his  philosophic  reach,  and  the 
classical  finish  of  his  imperishable  oratorical  essays. 
Garrick  was  the  prince  of  actors ;  Hogarth  the  prince 
of  caricaturists ;  Brummel  the  prince  of  fashion ; 
Handel  the  prince  of  musicians. 

When  Wesley  was  in  the  zenith  of  his  power  and 
in  the  fullness  of  his  vigorous  life,  two  of  the  greatest 
generals  of  their  age  were  born.  These  two  were 
islanders  by  birth,  and  entered  upon  their  splendid 
careers  in  the  same  year,  1769.  One  was  a  Corsican  ;  the 
other — though  he  cared  not  to  own  it — an  Irishman. 
Both  were  of  small  stature,  and  both  were  of  capacious 
intellectual  power.  The  one  sought  to  establish  a 
colossal  military  tyranny  that  should  bestride  the  con- 


102          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AXD  ADDRESSES. 

tinent  of  Europe  ;  to  the  other  it  was  given  to  shatter 
the  policy  of  the  tyrant  by  a  series  of  splendid  battles 
which  reached  their  fitting  climax  in  the  sublime 
struggle  of  June  18,  1815,  when  the  lurid  star  of 
tyranny  went  down  in  blood,  and  the  Corsican  was 
swept  from  the  height  of  Waterloo  to  his  prison  and 
his  sepulcher  upon  the  lone  volcanic  cinder  called 
St.  Helena,  where  the  ever-surging  sea  chanted  his 
dirge  and  the  rushing  winds  rehearsed  the  refrain: 
"  Yanity  of  vanities — all  is  vanity." 

When  Methodism  was  but  thirty  years  old,  Scot- 
land's most  famous  literary  son  saw  the  light  of  life,  for 
in  1771  was  born  the  author  of  "  Old  Mortality,"  "  The 
Heart  of  Midlothian ; "  the  creator  of  Meg  Merrilies, 
of  Jeannie  Deans,  of  Rebecca  the  Jewess,  of  Dominie 
Sampson ;  the  genius,  which,  in  the  width  of  his 
range  of  subject,  his  subtle  knowledge  of  human  na- 
ture, his  power  over  the  passions  of  the  human  heart, 
his  mastery  over  the  emotions  of  wonder  and  rever- 
ence, his  wealth  of  antique  lore,  and  his  prodigality  of 
productiveness,  claims  rank  but  one  step  below  that  of 
Shakspeare — Sir  Walter  Scott. 

In  1752,  when  Wesley  was  approaching  his  fiftieth 
year,  a  serious-looking  man  of  vigorous  frame  and 
gray  eyes  might  have  been  seen  in  one  of  the  fields 
in  the  vicinity  of  Philadelphia,  flying  a  kite.  It  is 
not  a  very  manlike  sport.  There  is  a  storm  overhead, 
too.  The  dark  clouds  are  letting  loose  their  pent-up 
forces.  Thunder-peals,  preceded  by  lighting  flashes, 
startle  the  citizens,  but  wake  no  terror  in  the  kite- 
flyer's  spirit.  The  cord  of  the  kite  is  half  silk,  half 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  103 

hemp;  and  where  the  two  meet  a  key  is  fastened. 
The  kite  has  an  iron  point ;  and  see !  the  lightning 
plays  around  it,  aye,  strikes  and  travels  down  it ;  un- 
til, when  the  kite-flyer's  knuckles  touch  the  key,  a 
shock  thrills  his  frame,  while  a  strange  gleam  of 
wonder  and  satisfaction  lights  the  eye  of  the  sage.  It 
is  Benjamin  Franklin  seeking  to  prove  the  identity  of 
lightning  and  electricity. 

What  an  era  in  physical  science !  What  an  era  in 
human  speculation !  What  an  era  in  the  history  of 
human  civilization !  It  was  the  dawn  of  that  period 
within  whose  brilliant  noon  the  electric  telegraph 
proclaims  its  victories;  winging  thought  over  con- 
tinent and  under  ocean ;  defiant  of  storm  above  and  wild 
waves'  dash  below ;  binding  distant  nations  into  brother- 
hood ;  furthering  the  enterprises  of  commerce,  the 
purposes  of  philanthropy,  the  ends  of  justice,  and  the 
designs  of  statesmanship ;  and  giving  man  a  hint  of 
the  possibilities  for  the  facility  of  locomotion  yet  to 
be  developed  when  man's  gross  body  shall  have  given 
place  to  the  body  splendid  and  celestial  in  a  higher 
sphere  of  life. 

A  wonderful  century  was  that  in  which  Wesley 
worked!  filled  with  wonderful  men  and  wonderful 
deeds ! 

As  to  the  need  of  Wesley  and  his  work,  who  can 
question  who  reads  the  records  of  the  reception  ac- 
corded Wesley  and  his  helpers  ?  Remember  he  was 
a  clergyman  of  the  Established  Church ;  that  there 
was  nothing  coarse,  rude,  vulgar  in  his  spirit,  speech, 
bearing ;  that  when  he  preached  in  the  open  air  he 


10-i  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

did  so  in  the  full  dress  of  a  clergyman  with  gown 
and  bands ;  that  his  looks,  his  manner,  his  message, 
all  gave  evidence  of  his  impassioned  longing  to  save 
men  from  their  lives  of  vice,  their  deeds  of  crime. 
Remember  he  went  not  forth  as  a  controversionalist ; 
not  to  change  men  from  one  creed  to  another ;  not  to 
make  heretics  orthodox ;  not  to  create  a  spirit  of 
bitterness  between  the  classes  of  society ;  not  to  hound 
on  brutal,  ignorant  men  against  men  of  culture,  of 
position,  of  wealth ;  not  to  fling  firebrands  of  vile 
epithets  and  vituperation  against  monopolists  and  aris- 
tocracies— but  to  save  men  from  drunkenness,  from 
blasphemy,  from  bull-baiting,  from  theft,  from  licen- 
tiousness, from  ignorance,  from  poverty,  from  lives 
of  debauchery,  from  homes  of  strife  and  hate,  and  to 
turn  men  from  sin  and  Satan  to  holiness  and  God  ! 
Then,  what  think  you  of  the  state  of  society  when 
such  a  man  met,  in  return  for  his  noble  and  Christlike 
efforts,  slander  and  scurrility  from  the  press,  the 
ribaldry  of  the  ballad-singer  and  the  sneer  of  the 
witling,  the  cruel  mockings  of  magistrates  and  the 
base  tauntings  of  the  play-actor?  "When  he  stands 
up  to  preach  the  air  is  thick  with  stones  and  tremu- 
lous with  the  furious  shoutings  of  blood-thirsty 
crowds ;  and  when  he  retires  for  shelter  the  house  is 
assaulted  by  the  same  mobs  ;  windows  smashed ;  doors 
broken  through ;  roofs  pulled  off ;  friends  trampled 
into  the  dust  and  gutter ;  women  brutally  insulted  ; 
men  haled  to  and  plunged  into  horse-ponds  and 
rivers ;  some  of  his  helpers  compelled  to  enlist  in  the 
army;  others  shut  up  in  jail  as  disturbers  of  the 


AND  ins  HELPERS.  105 

peace.  Clmrcli  clerks  are  the  ringleaders,  under  the 
commands  of  the  parish  rectors ;  towns  are  given  up 
to  the  rioters  for  days,  as  in  Cork  city  ;  the  appearance 
of  a  Methodist  in  the  street  is  a  signal  for  a  general 
"  turn  out  '*  of  all  the  ruffianism  of  alley  and  court, 
hooting,  yelling,  cursing,  as  though  hell  had  been  let 
loose  and  every  jail  had  been  emptied  of  its  scoun- 
dreh'sm.  Such  scenes  as  these  were  of  repeated  occur- 
rence in  Christian  England ! 

Wesley  came  of  a  good  and  godly  stock.  This  is 
not  to  be  overlooked  in  our  study  and  estimate  of  a 
great  man.  It  is  a  cause  for  thankfulness.  It  is  a 
special  vantage  ground.  It  implies  noble  possibilities 
and  involves  weighty  responsibilities.  He  who  is  so 
favored  is  the  steward  of  jive  talents  rather  than  of  one. 
He  may  become  a  greater  benefactor  of  his  race.  He 
may  scale  bolder  peaks  of  science.  He  may  do  busi- 
ness in  deeper  waters  of  philosophic  truth.  He  may 
create  a  crisis  in  human  history  as  a  reformer,  a  rev- 
olutionist, discoverer,  and  inventor.  It  does  not  in- 
fallibly secure  well  being  or  well  doing ;  but  it  renders 
such  more  likely. 

Wesley's  father  was  a  scholar,  a  theologian,  and  a 
poet ;  and  inherited  from  father  and  grandfather  a 
nature  and  spirit  fearless  in  the  maintenance  of  truth 
and  heroic  in  the  defense  of  liberty.  For  each  had 
suffered  for  Christ's  and  conscience'  sake  under  the 
tyranny  both  of  Church  and  State. 

Wesley's  mother  even  eclipses  the  fame  of  his 
father.  The  daughter  of  a  Puritan  clergyman  dis. 
tinguished  for  his  learning,  his  pulpit  power,  and  his 


106          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

profound  piety.  She  herself  evinced  the  possession  of 
a  spirit  unquailing  in  its"  loyalty  to  duty,  and  of  an 
intellect  fit  to  grapple  with  the  problems  of  theology 
as  might  have  become  one  of  the  giants  of  the  Church 
in  her  own  or  in  other  ages.  The  mother  of  nineteen 
children  and  the  wife  of  an  underpaid  clergyman, 
she  trained  her  children  in  the  principles  of  piety,  in 
the  elements  of  learning,  and  in  habits  of  firm  self-re- 
liance and  mutual  helpfulness,  with  an  unfaltering 
purpose  and  an  unmurmuring  assiduity;  combining 
firmness  with  gentleness,  and  freedom  with  order,  in 
her  administration,  so  as  to  command  the  esteem,  con- 
fidence, and  admiration  of  her  sons  and  daughters,  and 
secure  for  her  memory  a  sacred  enshrinemeut  in  their 
affections  amid  the  vicissitudes  of  their  strangely 
checkered  lives. 

Beautiful  in  person  and  queenly  in  visage,  she  was 
a  counselor  of  her  boys  when  students  at  the  Univer- 
sity, and  an  adviser  of  her  illustrious  son  in  circum- 
stances of  novelty  and  perplexity.  "With  a  heart  as 
tender  as  her  intellect  was  clear ;  quick  to  interpret 
character,  and  prompt  in  her  apprehension  of  the  will 
and  ways  of  Providence  ;  calm  amid  scenes  of  pertur- 
bation, and  firm  in  her  adherence  to  the  dictates  of  a 
finely  educated  conscience  ;  never  forgetting  her  duties 
as  a  wife,  and  never  ignoring  her  responsibilities  to 
her  own  soul ;  she  lived  beloved ;  she  died  honored. 
And  though  sainthood  bound  no  halo  round  her  brow, 
yet  in  the  halls  erected  to  perpetuate  the  fame  of  all 
those  who  served  their  species  by  the  will  of  God,  no 
holier  niche  is  filled  with  a  spotless  marble  than  that 


WESLEY  AND  ins  HELPERS.  107 

wherein  reposes  the  bust  of  Susanna,  "  the  mother  of 
the  Wesleys." 

Yes,  John  Wesley  had  never  been  but  for  such  a 
mother.  Like  many  another  eminent  benefactor  of 
his  race,  he  never  forgot  to  acknowledge  his  obliga- 
tions to  her.  To  him  she  ministered  the  sagest  coun- 
sel, and  by  her  judgment  and  advice  John  "Wesley 
delighted  to  be  controlled.  To  her  he  was  indebted 

O 

for  many  a  judicious  suggestion.  She  it  was  who 
persuaded  John  to  the  surrender  of  his  High-Church 
ideas  regarding  preachers  and  preaching.  She  heard 
Thomas  Maxfield  preach,  and  told  Wesley  he  was  as 
certainly  called  to  preach  the  Gospel  as  was  any  or- 
dained and  gowned  minister  of  the  National  Church. 
She  is  the  patron  saint  of  "  local  preachers."  To  her 
we  owe  the  "  lay  ministry  "  of  Methodism.  And 
Adam  Clarke,  the  sturdy  commentator,  in  his  notes 
upon  the  description  of  a  perfect  woman  in  the  Book 
of  Proverbs,  declares  that  he  knew  of  none  in  ancient 
or  in  modern  times  who  might  with  such  propriety 
have  sat  for  that  portrait  as  Susanna  Wesley. 

To  no  one  man  is  any  great  work  of  reformation  or 
revolution  assigned  by  Providence.  Christianity  it- 
self, when  a  completed  edifice,  shall  be  found  reposing 
upon  "  the  foundation  of  the  Apostles  and  Prophets, 
Jesus  Christ  being  the  chief  corner-stone."  When 
God  engages  in  any  such  work  he  calls  upon  men  to 
become  "  workers  together  with  God."  "  One  soweth 
and  another  reapeth."  The  Reformation  exemplifies 
the  same  principle.  Luther  needs  Melanchthon;  Flavel 
needs  Calvin ;  the  thinker  needs  the  preacher ;  the 


108          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

scholar  needs  the  organizer ;  the  timid  and  sensitive 
needs  the  bold  and  dauntless.  And  so  Latimer's 
sturdy  common  sense  and  mother  wit,  and  John 
Knox's  impetuous  spirit  and  indomitable  will,  his 
rugged  and  unquailing  nature — these  all  contributed  to 
the  success  of  the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  cen- 
tury. 

It  was  even  so  in  Wesley's  days,  in  "Wesley's  work. 
"Wesley's  greatness  was  seen  not  merely  in  the  work 
he  himself  performed,  but  in  the  might  with  which 
he  persuaded  others  to  unite  with  him  in  the  execu- 
tion of  his  plans.  He  attracted  others,  and  assigned 
them  their  spheres  of  labor ;  and  then,  KKC  a  central 
sun,  maintained  them  in  undeviating  march  and  in 
balanced  order  during  the  blessed  period  of  his  earthly 
life. 

One  of  the  most  trusted,  most  honored,  and  most 
useful  co-laborers  with  Wesley  was  a  brother  clergy- 
man. A  Swiss  by  birth,  of  noble  family,  he  studied 
for  the  ministry ;  but,  unable  to  accept  the  Genevan 
Creed,  he  chose  a  military  life.  Failing,  both  in  Ger- 
many and  Portugal,  to  realize  his  purpose,  he  visited 
England,  where  he  became  a  tutor  in  the  "  Hill  fam- 
ily." While  there  he  heard  of  Wesley,  sought  and 
found  religion,  received  ordination  in  the  National 
Church,  and  at  once  joined  Wesley,  to  become  after- 
ward his  dearest  friend,  his  confidential  adviser,  and 
the  most  eloquent  and  powerful  expounder  of  the 
Evangelical  Arminianism  of  Methodism. 

To  a  nimble  fancy  and  a  vigorous  imagination  he 
added  the  breadth  of  a  philosopher's  intellect  and  the 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  109 

clearness  of  a  logician's.  When  the  great  verities  of 
Methodistic  Arminianism  needed  a  defender,  in  John 
Fletcher  a  controversialist  was  found  who  never  lost 
his  temper ;  and  when  the  utmost  power  of  Christ  to 
save,  and  the  fullest  power  of  the  Gospel  to  beautify 
fallen  humanity  demanded  a  living  exhibitor,  lo !  in 
the  spirit  and  speech,  in  the  bearing  and  countenance 
of  Fletcher,  the  fairest  embodiment  of  both  on  which 
our  modern  ages  have  been  permitted  to  gaze. 

He  was  an  incarnation  of  love.  He  trod  the  earth 
as  a  celestial  visitant.  His  face  was  a  doxology.  Purity 
beamed  from  his  seraphic  features,  and  holiness.  No 
one  could  be  in  his  company  but  to  breathe  its  atmos- 
phere and  catch  its  inspiration.  Wherever  he  went, 
whatever  he  did,  heaven  encompassed  him.  And 
when  he  died,  men,  as  they  followed  the  soaring 
spirit,  woke  up  to  the  assurance  that  they  had  enter- 
tained an  angel  unawares. 

Of  the  many  of  John  Wesley's  helpers,  none  seems 
to  have  so  won  the  confidence,  the  admiration,  and  the 
love  of  Wesley,  as  the  Irishman,  Thomas  Walsh. 
During  the  preaching  of  Robert  Swindells  on  the 
parade-ground  of  Limerick,  1749,  a  young  man  of 
solemn  and  serious  aspect  formed  one  of  the  congre- 
gation who  listened  to  a  sermon  on  the  text,  "  Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I 
will  give  you  rest."  The  words  at  once  won  his  ear 
and  possessed  his  heart.  Rest  had  he  been  in  search 
of  for  years  past.  Listening  to  these  words,  the  path 
to  grace  opened  before  him  as  in  perfect  day ;  and,  on 
Christ  believing,  he  "  entered  into  rest."  Born  a 


110         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Romanist,  through  the  influence  of  his  brother,  a  con- 
verted Romanist,  he  had  left  Popery  and  entered  the 
Established  Church,  still  seeking  for  his  soul  what 
Christ  alone  could  give.  Through  the  humble  preach- 
er's instrumentality,  the  gifted  youth  felt  the  power 
of  the  glorious  Gospel,  and  at  once  became  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Methodist  Society.  Soon  he  began  to 
preach,  and  speedily  followed  marvelous  results.  He 
spoke  his  native  tongue  with  great  fluency.  He  ac- 
quired the  English,  the  Latin,  the  Greek,  and  the 
Hebrew  languages.  With  all  but  inspired  facility  he 
mastered  the  Bible  in  its  original  tongues,  spending 
hours  on  his  knees  in  the  entrancing  study.  His  famil- 
iarity with  the  book  was  such  that  Wesley  said,  in  a 
few  moments  Walsh  could  say  how  often  any  word 
occurred  in  the  Old  or  New  Testament,  and  its  mean- 
ing in  each  place. 

He  began  to  preach  when  twenty,  and  ceased  at 
once  to  preach  and  to  live  when  twenty-eight.  He 
traveled  through  Ireland — north  and  south — preach- 
ing in  markets  and  fairs,  within  doors  and  without, 
.with  overwhelming  power.  His  own  countrymen 
looked  upon  him  as  a  saint ;  his  look  was  seraphic ; 
his  bearing  was  of  moral  majesty;  his  speech,  as 'of 
one  who  had  for  an  hour  left  the  better  land  to  min- 
ister to  the  souls  of  men  in  this  one. 

With  God  he  held  absorbing  fellowship,  passing 
through  life  as  though  but  the  "  vision  splendid  "  won 
his  notice.  Priests  railed  at  him  ;  mobs  roughly  han- 
dled him.  In  jail  for  Christ's  sake,  he  was  still 
unflinching  and  fearless.  The  people  crowded  to  the 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  Ill 

jail  window  to  hear  him,  to  look  upon  him ;  while, 
far  as  his  voice  could  reach,  he  preached  to  them  the 
glad  tidings. 

Often  n've  times  a  day  he  preached,  fasting  fre- 
quently ;  rising  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning,  even 
while  sick  and  dying,  and  into  latest  hours  of  night 
prosecuting  his  laborious  studies.  Nature  could  not 
endure  it.  He  was  old — exceeding  old — at  twenty- 
six  ;  wasted,  wan,  yet  still  exultant  in  his  work, 
triumphant  in  his  success.  Of  nervous  tempera- 
ment, of  ardent  spirit,  and  of  intense  purpose,  the 
frail  tenement  at  last  gave  way.  And  when  but 
twenty-eight,  a  worn-out  man,  he  passed  to  a  sphere 
of  light  and  love  altogether  congenial  to  his  hallowed 
nature  and  his  cultivated  tastes. 

WESLEY'S  INTELLECTUAL  RANK. 

"Wesley's  intellectual  rank  may  be  thought  of  for  a 
little.  He  was,  without  doubt,  a  philosopher  by  na- 
ture and  by  disposition.  He  loved  to  reason  and  he 
delighted  to  speculate.  His  logical  power  was  prom- 
inently developed  and  called  into  incessant  play  by 
the  defenses  of  his  conduct  and  position  demanded 
by  his  numerous,  and  often  bitter,  foes.  He  was 
quick  to  detect  a  fallacy,  and  swift  to  expose  a  false 
premise  or  conclusion.  To  study  him  is  to  pass 
through  a  course  of  lectures  on  logic.  He  demanded 
a  reason  for  every  thing  believed  in  and  advocated  by 
him. 

Physical  science  found  in  him  an  ardent  admirer 
and  a  fervent  student.  He  saw  the  potencies  lurking 


112          GUAKL'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

in  electricity,  and  especially  the  services  likely  to  be 
rendered  to  diseased  humanity  by  that  subtle  and 
mysterious  force. 

Art  won  his  regards  and  elicited  his  criticism ; 
whether  it  were  the  hoary  pile  of  architecture,  the 
chiseled  and  all  but  breathing  bust,  the  glowing  and 
well-nigh  speaking  canvas,  or  the  melodies  and  sym- 
phonies drawn  forth  from  pipe  and  string  by  the 
mighty  masters  of  harmony  and  concord. 

In  the  immortal  creations  of  the  bards  of  Greece 
and  Rome,  Wesley  dwelt  as  in  a  realm  all  his  own. 
Their  sublimities  awed  him ;  their  beauties,  their  felic- 
ities of  metaphor,  their  description  both  of  character 
and  incident,  found  in  him  an  enthusiastic  apprecia- 
tor ;  one  ever  ready  to  enrich  and  embellish  his  own 
productions  by  the  verse,  the  stanza  borrowed  from- 
the  crowned  monarchs, 

"Whose  distant  footsteps  echo 
Through  the  corridors  of  tima 

His  power  as  a  preacher  must  have  been  immense. 
Not  that  he  had  the  passionate,  weeping  persuasive- 
ness of  his  brother  Charles ;  rather  he  seemed  to  be 
ever  the  reasoner ;  calm,  commanding,  clear,  self-pos- 
sessed, he  spoke  as  one  having  authority  and  as  though 
commissioned  to  act  and  appeal  as  the  ernbassador  of 
the  King  of  kings.  With  but  little  gesture,  and  free 
from  all  that  would  savor  of  dramatic  manner,  with  a 
voice  capable  of  reaching  twenty  thousand  people  in 
the  open  air,  when  he  preached  breathless  atten. 
tion  proved  the  interest  he  awaked,  while  an  over- 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPEES.  113 

whelming  solemnity  descended  upon  the  audience  as 
though  one,  a  herald  from  the  skies,  stood  forth  to 
reason  and  persuade.  Fearless  in  denunciation  of  sin, 
he  was  tender  even  to  tears  with  seeking  sinners. 
Those  who  came  to  mock  remained  to  pray.  Perse- 
cutors of  fiercest  spirit  had  but  to  listen  and  their 
purpose  forsook  them,  as  they  seized  his  hand  as  he 
descended  from  his  pulpit,  and  became  his  protectors 
against  the  outlying  mobs. 

True,  he  was  not  the  orator  that  Whitefield  was. 
God  does  not  often  make  such  men  as  George  White- 
field.  As  godly,  as  evangelical,  and  as  consecrated 
to  one  work  as  Wesley,  he  excelled  in  what  may  be 
termed  popular  and  effective  oratory.  With  a  voice 
of  matchless  compass  and  flexibility,  and  with  a  face 
radiant  with  love  and  rendered  even  rather  fascinating 
by  the  squint  of  one  eye  ;  with  a  dramatic  genius 
which  Garrick  might  have  envied ;  with  a  soul  tuned 
to  the  most  exquisite  sensibility ;  with  a  burning  pas- 
sion for  saving  souls  ;  full  of  tact ;  ever  self-possessed  ; 
quick  to  seize  and  utilize  every  passing  event  and 
every  sudden  emergency ;  apt  in  his  use  of  illustra- 
tion ;  he  at  once  compelled  the  most  unlettered  to 
melt  under  his  appeals,  and  extorted  the  most  flatter- 
ing attention  from  the  skeptic  Hume,  the  courtier 
Chesterfield,  the  man  of  practical  common  sense. 
Franklin. 

Whether  on  the  open  common,  surrounded  by  mobs 
and  rioters ;  or  in  the  saloon  of  the  Countess  of  Hunt- 
ingdon, enzoned  by  the  elite  of  British  birth,  grace, 
and  beauty  ;  or  amid  the  hard-headed  and  logical  sons 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  fathers  of  Scotland's  kirk  ;  or  when  sweeping  down 
with  eagle-like  majesty  and  might  upon  the  throngs 
of  Philadelphia  and  New  England ;  Whitefield  is  con- 
fessedly one  of  the  foremost  of  effective  pulpit  orators 
since  the  days  when  Paul  magnetized  the  sons  of 
Athens,  and  Apollos  spell-bound  the  churches  of 
Corinth  and  of  Macedonia  by  his  Alexandrian  elo- 
quence. 

WESLEY  AS  A  SEARCHER  AFTER  TRUTH. 

In  no  other  pursuit  than  in  the  search  after  truth 
is  man  so  nobly  employed,  except  it  be  in  imparting 
to  others  that  which  he  may  have  discovered. 

It  is  obedience  to  one  of  the  most  imperative  of 
the  instincts  of  the  human  soul.  For,  if  man  be 
made  for  any  end,  he  is  made  for  the  acquisition  of 
truth.  The  sublimity  of  human  nature  bursts  upon 
our  view  when  we  witness  the  efforts  put  forth  by 
some  of  our  fellows  to  attain  this  pearl  of  great  price. 
What  perils  they  have  braved  !  What  foes  they  have 
aroused  and  battled  with  !  What  agonies  of  soul  they 
have  experienced  !  What  sacrifices  they  have  made  ! 
Pilgrimages  to  distant  oracles  have  been  taken.  Se- 
clusion from  the  felicities  of  social  life  has  been 
submitted  to.  Scorn,  doubt,  opprobrium,  outlawry, 
imprisonment,  horrid  and  ignominious  death — all 
have  been  endured  by  the  noble  army  of  truth-seek- 
ers. Often  have  such  truth-seekers  been  looked  on 
as  in  league  with  the  powers  of  darkness — as  having 
pawned  away  their  souls  for  a  ray  of  revelation 
upon  some  subtle  bijt  potent  problem.  They  have 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  115 

been  looked  at  with  terror,  shunned  as  lepers,  hunted 
as  wolves,  cried  down  as  doomed  by  heaven  and  by 
the  Church  to  hell's  darkest  and  dreariest  pit. 

To  none  was  Wesley  second  in  his  belief  in  truth, 
and  in  his  unabated  zeal  in  pursuit  of  it.  The  truth 
might  have  reference  to  God's  method  of  forgiving 
sin  and  bestowing  rest  and  purity  upon  man's  weary 
spirit.  The  truth  might  have  reference  to  church 
government  and  the  scriptural  authority  for  episco- 
pal ordination  as  necessary  to  a  true  .ministry.  The 
truth  might  have  reference  to  doctrine,  such  as 
Calvinism  versus  Armiuianism,  or  "  the  witness  of 
the  Spirit"  to  man's  adoption,  or  the  nature  and  at- 
tainableiiess  of  Christian  holiness.  The  truth  might 
have  reference  to  the  rightfulness  or  expediency 
of  the  separation  of  the  Methodist  societies  from 
the  Church  of  England,  and  their  independence  as  a 
duly-organized  Christian  Church. 

The  truth  might  have  reference  to  any  one  of  the 
sciences  of  his  day,  either  that  which  weighed  the 
stars,  or  that  which  numbered  the  primary  elements  of 
matter,  or  that  which  studied  the  properties  of  a  sun- 
beam, or  that  which  sought  to  grapple  with  the  mys- 
teries of  electricity,  or  that  which  sought  to  answer 
the  question  by  self-study — What  is  man  ?  It  mat- 
tered not ;  to  all  truth  he  turned  a  reverent  gaze. 
With  all  truth  he  desired  to  win  acquaintance  and 
familiarity. 

With  what  avidity  he  read ;  with  what  care  he 
criticised  ;  with  what  caution  he  accepted ;  with  what 
faithful  accuracy  he  recorded  sta^ments  made  to  him, 


116          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDEESSES. 

and  sifted  th§  evidence  offered  for  their  support,  his 
Journals  bear  ample  testimony. 

The  "impulse  to  establish  good  is  not  more  constant 
in  its  activity  than  the  desire  to  find  out  the  true. 
And  in  Wesley's  case  it  resulted  in  growth  of  thought, 
rectification  and  enlargement  of  opinion,  together 
with  increasing  respect  for  and  toleration  of  all  such  as 
differed  from  him. 

How  he  ever  welcomed  suggestions  from  others,  and 
with  genial  courtesy  acknowledged  the  letters  of  those 
who  wrote  him  their  objections  to  his  creed  or  con- 
duct, his  correspondence  bears  ever-recurring  evi- 
dence. 

In  matters  of  religion  he  ever  turns  to  the  Bible. 
Nothing  binds  his  conscience  but  as  it  may  be  found 
in,  or  proved  by,  the  Book.  "  O  give  me,"  he  ex- 
claims, "  give  me  that  Book."  Satisfied  of  its  divinity, 
his  only  care  is  to  know  what  it  teaches,  enforces, 
warrants ;  and  then,  how  dear  soe'ver  the  fond  opin- 
ion or  long-cherished  prejudice,  both  must  yield  to 
the  truth  of  the  divine  oracle. 

Now,  as  a  truth-seeker,  "Wesley  was  progressive. 
He  made  what  was,  in  the  broadest  sense,  a  "  new  de- 
parture." He  had  no  chart  by  which  to  steer  his  adven- 
turous bark  over  the  mysterious  waters  of  his  evan- 
gelist life.  What  could  he  do  but  make  experiments  ; 
welcome  light  from  whatever  point  it  streamed  upon 
his  course  ;  and,  as  the  facts  or  principles  warranted 
him,  push  his  keel  onward,  outward,  into  yet  deeper 
waters,  if  by  any  means  he  might  "  catch  men  "  ? 

Hence  we  find  hijn  growing  a  wiser  man  "  with 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  117 

the  process  of  the  sun."  He  knows  more  to-day  than 
yesterday,  hence  he  changes  his  action.  This  exposed 
him  to  the  charge  of  inconsistency.  But  it  was  the 
inconsistency  of  a  noble  heart  and  of  a  creature  to 
whom  the  future  is  not  revealed  —whose  knowledge, 
as  it  grows,  proves  him  to  have  been  wrong  yester- 
day, and  whose  change  of  course  is  the  evidence,  not 
of  folly,  but  of  wisdom  ;  not  of  vacillation  of  purpose, 
but  of  fixedness  of  principle — that  principle  none 
other  than  this  :  Let  me  know  what  is  right,  and  Til 
dare  to  do  it. 

I  ought  to  know  more  next  year  than  I  do  this 
year.  I  ought  to  have  an  ampler  experience  next 
week  than  I  had  last.  1  ought,  therefore,  to  be  a 
wiser  man  then  than  now  ;  and  I  ought,  therefore, 
to  have  sufficient  courage  to  confess  the  same  both 
by  practice  and  by  word.  The  mortal  who  never 
changes  is  very  nearly  an  idiot.  Infallibility  is  not 
the  gift  of  humanity,  and,  therefore,  immutability 
should  not  be  the  conduct  of  reasonable  men.  "  When 
I  was  young  I  believed  every  thing,"  said  Wesley  ; 
"  when  I  grew  older  I  believed  less.  Now,  I  am  not 
quite  sure  of  any  thing  not  revealed  in  God's  Word." 

Hence  his  High-Church  notions,  one  by  one,  melted 
into  thin  air ;  and  with  growth  of  experience  there 
came  growth  of  liberality  in  opinion  and  expansion 
of  polity  and  practice.  In  one  thing  he  was  unal- 
terable— to  do  the  will  of  God.  Let  that  will  be 
made  known  by  the  word  of  God,  or  by  the  provi- 
dence of  God,  or  by  the  experimental  knowledge  of 
life  and  men — he  had  but  to  se«  it  to  be  God's  will, 


118         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  then  let  men  oppose,  let  friends  forsake,  let  his 
brother  Charles  object,  and  grow  cold  and  suspicious, 
it  mattered  not  to  Wesley.  He  dared  to  venture,  he 
dared  to  brave,  he  dared  to  make  his  own  road  and 
then  to  tread  it  with  faith  in  Providence,  with  foot 
unfaltering,  and  with  heart  calm  in  the  peace  of  God, 
and  conduct  undeviating  as  the  march  of  nature's 
most  august  and  far-reaching  laws.  Stars  cannot 
surpass  him  in  the  firmness  of  obedience,  seraphs 
cannot  shame  him  by  the  cheerfulness  with  which 
they  obey  the  fiats  of  their  Maker  and  their  King. 
If  this  be  not  greatness,  then  tell  us  what  is  ! 

Did  he  never  err  ?  Did  he  never  make  a  mistake  ? 
Yes,  he  erred — he  made  a  mistake.  But  it  was 
where  the  best  and  the  greatest  men  before  and  since 
have  erred  and  made  mistakes. 

Wesley  married;  that  was  his  one  great  mistake. 
He  should  never  have  married.  His  itinerant  life, 
like  Paul's,  could  never  have  co-existed  with  married 
life  ;  and  it  did  not.  Bishop  Asbury,  the  apostle 
and  founder  of  Methodism  in  America,  was  right : 
he  never  married. 

Had  Wesley  a  heart  ?  Some  will  ask :  Could  he 
love  ?  He  had  a  heart,  the  tenderest.  He  could  love 
the  most  intensely.  He  was  altogether  human.  His 
affections  were  as  rich,  as  deep,  as  warm,  as  strong 
as  ever  beat  in  human  bosom. 

But  never  man  entered  into  married  life  so  blind- 
folded, and  never  man  paid  a  heavier  penalty  for  his 
act  of  error.  He  married  when  nearly  fifty.  If  he 
married  at  all  it  should  have  been  before  his  habits 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  110 

had  become  rigidly  fixed — say  before  or  about  thirty 
— and  one  of  age  not  more  than  his  own.  He  mar- 
ried a  wealthy  widow,  but  before  marriage  all  her 
money  was  settled  on  herself.  Not  a  penny  would 
Wesley  touch  or  use.  But  he  married  jealousy  in- 
carnate, and  he  married  one  by  no  means  his  equal 
in  education.  Her  jealousy  was  a  disease  the  most 
virulent,  and  the  life  he  lived  was  a  petty  hell.  Poor 
man !  that  she  taunted  him  and  tantalized  him, 
watched  him,  suspected  him,  railed  at  him,  and  let 
him  feel  the  power  of  her  strong  arm,  evidence  co- 
pious exists  to  prove. 

Yet  John  Wesley's  wife  was  one  of  his  helpers. 
She  helped  him  in  that  she  "  stirred  up  his  nest "  for 
him  with  a  vengeance,  with  a  purpose  relentless  and 
resolve  invincible.  She  threw  him  out  from  the  re- 
pose of  domestic  luxury.  Charles  Wesley  all  but 
ceased  to  be  an  itinerant  after  his  marriage.  John 
Wesley  was  not  designed  for  such  a  mode  of  life. 
He  was  called  to  be  the  itinerant.  This  could  scarce 
co-exist  with  wedded  life ;  hence  we  might  think, 
with  all  propriety,  that  his  was  not  a  wise  step  when 
he  married.  But  even  this  was  overruled.  He  was 
called  to  exercise  new  virtues  and  develop  new  graces 
and  bear  new  trials.  He  was  taught  that  he  might 
better  sympathize  with  and  succor  all  so  tried  and 
tempted.  Difficulties  developed  him.  Fresh  resolve 
inspired  and  braced  him.  New  consecration  to  his 
work  impelled  him  to  his  unremitting  course.  Yes, 
John  Wesley's  wife  helped  him  ! 

Wesley  aimed  at  the  education  and  the  elevation  of 


120         GTTAED'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDKESSES. 

the  masses  of  English  life.  Hence  he  availed  himself 
of  the  press  as  few  men  have  done  before  or  since. 
He  sought  to  scatter  the  seeds  of  truth,  thus  to  secure 
correct  opinions  and  beliefs  respecting  all  subjects  of 
importance,  both  secular  and  religious. 

Fortunately,  as  I  have  often  thought,  in  selecting 
the  leader  of  this  great  reformation  God  chose  an 
educated  and  a  scholarly  man ;  one  well  trained  by 
the  best  education  of  his  age  and  country,  and,  there- 
fore, one  capable  of  appreciating  the  benefits  of  edu- 
cation to  others.  No  one  questions  Wesley's  rank  as 
a  scholar.  He  won  a  fellowship  in  Oxford  by  right 
of  scholarship,  as  well  as  an  appointment  as  Greek 
lecturer.  Wesley  was  eminently  a  Protestant  in  this 
particular.  He  would  have  men  think,  and  thus  give 
a  reason  for  their  conduct  as  well  as  for  their  beliefs 
and  hopes.  He  recognizes  the  rank  of  man  as  founded 
upon  this  faculty;  hence  his  "Appeal  to  Men  of 
Reason  and  Eeligion  "  in  expounding  and  defending 
the  principles  and  mission  of  Methodism. 

Many  of  his  followers  have  been  exceedingly  ig- 
norant ;  but  this  was  not  Wesley's  fault,  and  this  is 
no  evidence  of  their  consistency  as  followers  and 
disciples  of  Wesley. 

Certainly,  whatever  a  scholarly  man  could  do  to  cult- 
ivate a  love  of  knowledge  in  the  minds  of  his  con- 
verts Wesley  attempted  and  performed.  Recognizing 
the  disadvantages  of  many  of  those  saved  through  his 
efforts,  he  at  once  placed  his  literary  power  at  their 
service,  and  by  a  constant  use  of  the  press  effected  a 
circulation  of  literature  most  marvelous  in  his  day. 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  121 

Tracts,  letters,  essays,  compilations,  compendiums, 
treatises,  poured  forth  in  continuous  stream  to  irri- 
gate and  fructify  the  else  sterile  and  desert  regions 
of  the  common  people  of  old  Britain.  Wherever 
his  preachers  went  they  carried  Wesley's  books ;  thus 
they  were  itinerant  booksellers  and  venders  of  the 
elements  of  wisdom,  knowledge,  and  joy. 

The  amount  of  mind  saved  from  ignorance  and  its 
dire  evils  by  Wesley  has  not  yet  had  its  due  appre- 
ciation. Men  who  never  thought  began  to  feel  the 
pleasures  of  knowledge.  Minds  dormant  felt  the 
breath  of  life  passing  over  and  through  them.  Tof- 
por  yielded  to  vigor.  The  germs  of  knowledge  found 
a  fitting  soil  in  the  nature  of  men  arrested  from  the 
error  of  their  vicious  ways.  For  the  first  time  men 
opened  their  eyes  upon  the  glories  of  existence  and 
the  possibilities  of  being ;  "  all  things  "  had  "  become 
new."  Great,  indeed,  was  the  amount  of  mind  force 
Wesley  helped  to  develop  and  utilize ! 

The  course  Wesley  adopted  at  length  developed 
and  brought  into  play  powers  of  mind  and  of  speech 
in  the  persons  of  his  helpers  perfectly  startling  in  their 
strength,  their  brilliancy,  and  their  effects. 

There  was  Bradburn,  the  shoemaker;  than  whom 
no  greater  orator  spoke  the  English  language  or  swayed 
Christian  audiences  during  the  earlier  portion  of  the 
nineteenth  century. 

There  was  Thomas  Olivers,  also  a  shoemaker,  Wes- 
ley's assistant  editor ;  a  controversialist  of  the  keenest 
logical  powers ;  and,  as  the  author  of  "  The  God  of 
Abraham  praise,"  a  poet  of  the  loftiest  lyric  order. 


122         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

There  was  Adam  Clarke,  a  very  prodigy  of  learn- 
ing, a  scholar  of  European  fame,  a  preacher  of  over- 
whelming power  and  of  peerless  popularity. 

There  was  Samuel  Drew,  the  shoemaker  of  Corn- 
wall, a  metaphysician  with  whom  Sir  "William  Ham- 
ilton would  have  delighted  to  converse  and  argue. 

No  adaptation  for  usefulness  was  permitted  to  slum- 
ber. Thoughtfulness  became  the  habit  and  mood  of 
the  workers.  From  the  realms  of  nature ;  from  the 
pages  of  biography  ;  from  the  annals  of  history ;  from 
the  hoarded  treasures  of  the  great  theological  fathers 
yf  the  Church  ;  from  the  exhaustless  mines  of  Holy 
Writ,  were  these  active  thinkers  and  speakers  drawing 
nourishment  for  their  understandings,  material  for 
their  sermons,  illustrations  to  win  the  most  stupid,  and 
arguments  to  convince  the  most  resolute  hearer. 

But  for  Methodism  what  an  amount  of  mind  had 
remained  undeveloped  ?  Think  of  the  hundreds  of 
thousands  who  owe  their  mental  being  to  its  moral 
awakening  power.  How  multitudinous  the  host  upon 
which  it  laid  its  apprehending  hand  !  upon  whose 
head  it  poured  its  benediction  as  it  sent  them  forth  to 
bless  their  species  by  their  messages  of  truth  !  Think 
of  its  ministry ;  they  number  thousands.  They  have 
been  lifted,  the  majority  of  them,  from  social  con- 
ditions altogether  unfavorable  to  intellectual  develop- 
ment and  refinement.  But  for  Methodism  they  had 
remained  encased  in  flesh-and-blood  frames,  bound  to 
the  plow-shafts,  harnessed  to  the  sledge.  Methodism 
visited  them,  and  with  it  the  peace  of  God.  They 
accepted  both.  And  then — aye  !  what  then? 


WESLEY  AXD  HIS  HELPEBS.  123 

Methodism  found  gems  which,  but  for  it,  had  never 
flashed  their  luminous  light.  Behind  the  plow  and 
flinging  the  weaver's  shuttle ;  plying  the  tailor's  needle 
and  urging  the  carpenter's  plane ;  measuring  ribbons 
and  forging  horse-shoes;  splitting  rails  and  herding 
flocks ;  wielding  the  trowel  and  heating  the  baker's 
oven  ;  Methodism  found  some  of  the  rarest  jewels  set 
in  and  flashing  from  the  coronet  of  which  it  is  said, 
"  Thou  art  a  royal  diadem  in  the  hand  of  thy  God." 

WESLEY  AS  A  WORKER. 

Wesley  was  pre-eminently  a  worker ;  not  a  specu- 
lator ;  not  a  theorist ;  not  a  transcendental  dreamer ; 
not  a  weaver  of  gossamer  webs  upon  which  to  float 
away  into  regions  of  self -absorbing  study,  whither  the 
grim  monsters  of  human  sin  and  anguish  cannot 
intrude,  and  whither  the  dusky-winged  specters  of 
want  and  crime  cannot  roam.  He  was  not  born  for 
the  closet  of  the  sage,  with  its  atmosphere  thronged 
with  the  dancing  atomies  of  dry-as-dust  antiquarian- 
ism  ;  nor  was  he  born  for  the  cell  of  the  metaphysical 
wrangler,  whose  huge  stragglings  seek  to  wrest  from 
the  mysterious  entity  called  Being  the  secret  things 
which  Plato  longed  to  see,  and  Pascal  sighed  to  own. 

No ;  Wesley  was  not  to  shine  as  a  bright  particular 
star  in  the  galaxy  of  so-called  philosophic  sages ;  though 
to  deem  him  unequal  to  the  pursuit  and  unfitted  for 
the  acquisition  of  such  truths  were  to  do  him  grievous 
wrong.  His  calling  demanded  from  him  the  sternest 
self-denial  in  the  surrender  of  pursuits  altogether 
classic  and  sage-like  in  their  qualities  and  results.  But 


12i        GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

lie  lived  to  work — not  to  theorize,  or  dream,  or  speculate. 
To  save  men — this  was  tlie  purpose  of  liis  life.  And 
by  its  fitness  to  further  this  end,  every  study,  every 
friendship,  every  recreation,  was  at  once  tested  as  to 
its  intrinsic  value.  He  was,  in  this  respect,  eminently 
a  utilitarian. 

To  turn  wasteful  lives  into  useful  ones ;  to  transform 
semi-savage  dwellings  into  Christian  homesteads;  to 
lift  debauchery  from  its  mire  and  filth  and  bestialisrn 
into  honor,  self-respect,  and  manhood;  to  pour  the 
light-rays  of  knowledge  athwart  the  thick  darkness  of 
untrained  broods  of  grimy,  swarthy,  factory  and  min- 
ing families,  and  thus  fit  them  for  the  duties  of  life, 
the  service  of  God,  and  the  pure  joys  of  heaven ;  to 
win  the  ruffian  from  his  life  of  crime ;  to  turn  the 
drunkard  from  his  swine-like  habits ;  to  lift  his  dear 
Old  England  into  the  healthful,  honorable,  blessed 
place  of  Sabbath  keeping,  of  home  piety,  of  manly 
uprightness,  of  gentle  manners,  of  loving  tempers, 
and  of  generous  sympathies  and  deeds — this  was  Wes- 
ley's aim  and  mission. 

A  quenchless  passion  for  saving  souls  burned  upon 
the  altar  of  his  spirit.  A  consecration,  all  but  se- 
raphic, impelled  him  along  his  flinty,  arduous  career. 
Only  such  a  love  for  men  as  Christianity  can  inspire 
could  have  sustained  him  in  his  never-halting,  never- 
wearying,  never-murmuring  course.  Only  the  glad- 
ness of  spirit  begotten  of  devotion  to  such  a  Master 
as  Christ  could  have  flung  its  lustrous  and  exhilarant 
light  across  his  nature  and  along  his  path ;  rendering 
him  ever  a  center  of  repose  to  vexed  hearts,  and  a 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  125 

fount  of  peace  to  such  as  had  felt  the  irritations  of 
a  world  of  endless  chafing,  and  of  ceaseless  strife. 

I  am  amazed  as  I  contemplate  the  man's  power  of 
work.  Rest  he  scarce  ever  dreamed  of.  He  econo- 
mized time  as  with  a  miser's  parsimoniousness.  He 
experimented  upon  his  need  of  sleep,  and  finally  dis- 
covered the  art  of  going  to  bed  but  to  sleep,  and  wak- 
ing but  to  rise. 

Like  Wellington  who,  when  asked  why,  in  Walmer 
Castle,  he  slept  upon  a  couch  so  narrow  that  he  had 
scarce  room  to  turn  on  it,  replied,  "  When  I  turn,  it  is 
only  to  turn  out."  So  with  Wesley.  At  ten  o'clock 
he  went  to  sleep ;  at  four  o'clock  he  woke  and  rose. 
At  five  o'clock  he  was  in  his  pulpit,  beginning  the 
first  sermon  of  the  day ;  before  that  day  closed  he 
had  preached  three  times,  and  ridden  on  horseback 
sixty  miles. 

Traveling  then  was  not  the  sumptuous  luxury  it  is 
to-day,  in  this  highly  favored  locomotive  age  and  coun- 
try, with  its  palace  cars,  its  sleeping-berths,  its  glow- 
ing stoves,  its  cushioned  seats.  Roads  in  England  had 
not  yet  been  macadamized.  This  man  rode  on  horse- 
back in  all  weathers ;  frequently  setting  out  from  Lon- 
don for  the  North  in  winter,  amid  snow-storms  and 
pelting  rains,  undeterred  and  undismayed— cheerful , 
as  a  lark  in  summer  morn,  and  brave  as  a  Spartan  hero 
on  his  way  to  crush  his  Persian  foes.  And  this  all 
the  year  round !  Eighteen  hours  work  and  six  hours 
slumber ! 

He  visits  the  Societies  of  London  from  house  to 
house.  He  meets  his  class  on  Thursday  for  counsel 


126         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  encouragement.  He  corresponds  with  his  con- 
verts and  preachers  throughout  the  United  Kingdom. 
He  reads  all  the  literature  of  the  day.  He  publishes 
a  "  monthly  magazine."  He  writes  and  issues  tracts 
on  popular  duties  or  sins  or  needs.  He  is  sick  in 
Bristol  and  confined  to  his  room;  but,  with  such 
strength  as  remains,  he  translates  a  commentary  on 
the  New  Testament,  from  the  Latin  of  the  famous 
Bengel,  upon  which  is  based  "  Wesley's  Notes  on  the 
New  Testament." 

He  writes  four  volumes  upon  Natural  Philosophy, 
for  some  time  a  class-book  in  Trinity  College,  Dublin. 
He  translates  hymns  for  his  congregations,  and  cor- 
rects, with  chastened  skill  and  care,  the  exuberant 
poems  of  his  brother  Charles.  He  compiles  histories 
of  Greece  and  Rome  for  his  school  at  Kingswood. 
He  compiles  and  publishes  English,  French,  Latin, 
Greek,  and  Hebrew  grammars.  He  issues  an  edition 
of  eminent  Christian  authors,  consisting  of  some  sixty 
volumes,  containing  the  marrow  of  English  divinity 
and  the  strength  of  English  composition. 

He  meets  his  preachers  for  instruction  and  sym- 
pathy, not  only  in  annual,  but  also  in  monthly  confer- 
ences. He  is  alive  to  all  that  can  affect  or  interest 
humanity — politically,  benevolently,  religiously.  He 
writes  replies  to  the  many  and  manifold  charges 
hurled  at  him  by  bishops,  rectors,  editors,  and  non- 
descript critics  afflicted  with  the  disease  of  scribbling. 

Hiding  on  horseback  or  in  chaise,  his  book  is  ever 
in  his  hand ;  or,  if  the  scenery  and  spot  be  historic, 
his  eye  is  wakeful  to  detect  the  glories  of  landscape, 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  127 

the  beauties  of  mansions,  or  the  site  of  battles  fought 
by  warriors  or  by  freemen. 

I  am  terrilied  by  the  quantity  of  labor  performed 
by  this  small  man.  One  cannot  imagine  more  work 
squeezed  and  packed  into  a  human  life  than  he  com- 
pressed into  his.  There  was  orderliness  and  system, 
even  to  the  extreme  of  stern  rigidness.  He  planned 
with  a  luminous  and  far-reaching  ken.  Men  had 
learned  to  rely  upon  his  engagements.  They  looked 
for  him  even  as  the  astronomer  for  the  precise  return 
of  a  planet. 

Such  was  his  perfection  of  system,  there  were  no 
fag-ends  of  time,  here  and  there,  scattered  through 
his  days  and  weeks.  Every  hour  had  its  assigned 
duty;  and  every  duty  found  him  prompt  and  equipped 
for  its  discharge.  He  was  always  in  haste ;  but  he 
was  never  in  a  hurry.  He  saw  the  awful  grandeur  of 
time ;  he  felt  the  august  greatness  of  life.  He  lived 
as  ever  under  the  inspiration  of  the  judgment  day. 
He  endured  as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.  But 
that  his  life  was  uninterrupted  in  its  flow,  it  must  have 
seemed  a  very  torrent  in  its  force.  Dare  to  arrest 
it,  and  you  shall  prove  that  its  measure  of  rush  re- 
sembles that  of  a  planet  round  its  orbit.  Break  up 
his  life  into  days,  and  you  have  in  each  the  plunge  of 
a  cataract — the  leap  of  a  Niagara. 

Keenly  susceptible  to  the  fascinations  of  social  life, 
and  exquisite  in  his  sensibilities  as  a  lover  of  the  fine 
arts,  yet  from  the  one  he  must  tear  himself  away,  and 
through  the  other  pass  with  a  half  smile,  half  sigh, 
deferring  the  enjoyments  of  such  luxuries  of  life 


128         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

until  life's  stern,  imperative  demands  shall  have  been 
fulfilled. 

With  an  immutable  calmness  of  spirit,  there  was 
associated  a  passionate  intensity  of  resolve,  which  rose 
in  the  presence  of  difficulty  and  waxed  sublime  in  its 
invincible  courage  in  the  midst  of  antagonism  the 
most  threatening  and  malignant.  And  perhaps  since 
his  Master  said  it,  no  disciple  of  that  Master  could 
have  ventured  with  more  honesty  to  assert :  "  I  have 
finished  the  work  thou  gavest  me  to  do." 

Think  of  the  demands  upon  Wesley's  time,  thoughts, 
prudence,  wisdom,  charity,  long-suffering,  by  the  su- 
pervision of  his  preachers  and  societies.  He  visited 
them  once  a  year — from  Cornwall  to  Aberdeen  — 
from  London  to  Bristol  —  from  Cork  to  Derry;  he 
founded  schools ;  he  appointed  the  fields  of  labor  for 
his  helpers ;  he  corresponded  with  friends  and  with 
foes ;  his  correspondence  alone  would  have  filled  up 
his  time  and  taxed  his  mental  energies ;  he  defended 
himself  against  false  attacks  upon  his  teaching  and 
work ;  he  quelled  discord  ;  he  controlled  enthusiasts ; 
he  advised  his  preachers ;  he  published  tracts ;  he  print- 
ed sermons ;  he  visited  prisoners ;  he  preached  twice  a 
day ;  he  traveled  in  all  weathers ;  he  rode  on  all  sorts 
of  horses  and  over  all  qualities  of  roads ;  he  slept  on  all 
sorts  of  beds  and  fed  on  all  sorts  of  fare ;  he  preached 
in  rooms,  in  chapels,  on  tombstones  and  on  tables,  in  day- 
light and  in  moonlight,  in  calm  weather  and  in  stormy, 
when  dew  fell  and  when  rain  descended,  before  the 
ignorant  and  before  the  learned,  to  miners  and  to 
sailors,  to  rustics  and  to  soldiers,  before  the  judges  of 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  129 

his  Majesty  and  the  members  of  the  University,  suit- 
ing his  subject  and  his  style  to  the  audience,  the  place, 
and  the  occasion,  with  a  skill  faultless  and  a  tact  mar- 
velous, commanding  the  attention  of  the  most  illit- 
erate and  the  admiration  of  the  most  fastidiously 
critical ;  in  all,  the  faithful  and  the  fearless  embassa- 
dor  of  "  the  Blessed  and  only  Potentate."  And  this, 
not  for  a  year,  or  ten  years,  but  from  1739  until  1791 
— for  full  half  a  century. 

What  a  career !  Could  more  labor  have  been  com- 
pressed into  half  a  century  ?  His  energy  never  abated ; 
his  purpose  never  vacillated ;  his  cheerfulness  never 
forsook  him. 

You  must  remember  Wesley's  aim  and  purpose  in 
order  to  render  him  justice.  He  went  not  forth  to 
found  a  new  system  of  moral  or  metaphysical  science. 
He  went  not  out  to  establish  a  new  sect  of  religionists, 
or  to  found  a  new  order  in  the  Church.  He  went  not 
forth  as  a  lecturer  upon  poetry,  or  painting,  or  physical 
science.  His  mission  was  to  win  sinful  men  to  ways  of 
righteousness,  to  lives  of  obedience  to  God,  and  habits 
of  sobriety,  purity,  and  truth  before  men.  He  went 
forth  to  fulfill  the  end  for  which  Christ  came  to 
our  race  and  globe — to  turn  men  from  darkness  to 
light  and  from  the  power  of  Satan  unto  God.  His 
end  was,  first  and  last — Religion.  Looked  at  in  the 
light  of  the  New  Testament  Wesley  must  be,  if  we 
would  understand  him. and  justly  estimate  his  rank  as 
a  man,  as  a  Christian,  as  a  thinker,  and  as  an  organizer. 

You  will  recall  men  who  were  peerless  in  the 
realm  of  oratory.  They  could  turn  men's  ears,  and 


130          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

touch  men's  hearts,  and  move  men's  wills,  and  impel 
men  to  brave  and  honorable  deeds  by  the  majesty  of 
their  presentation  of  truth  and  the  might  of  their  ap- 
peal to  men's  sense  of  duty.  But  they  were  not, 
therefore,  organizers  of  men  or  of  societies. 

You  will  recall  men  who  were  without  rivals  in  the 
realms  of  speculative  thought ;  before  whose  superb  in- 
tellects truth  dispread  her  vast  empire,  creation  unfold- 
ed its  mysterious  secrets ;  and  the  first  principles  of  all 
wisdom,  and  of  all  knowledge,  and  of  all  order,  surren- 
dered at  their  command.  Men  capable  of  all-absorbing 
abstraction  of  thought,  centralization  of  intellect  upon 
themes  the  profoundest  with  which  created  mind  can 
deal.  But  they  were  not  organizers. 

You  can  recall  men  —  repeat  their  names  —  upon 
whose  vast  imaginations  beauty  burst,  before  whose  gaze 
sublimity  sat  enthroned,  through  whose  inner  life  con- 
cords poured  their  harmonies  and  rhythmic  waves  ;  and 
their  pens  and  their  brushes  or  their  chisels  promptly 
did  their  bidding  in  composing  or  creating  visible  and 
tangible  embodiments  of  the  conceptions  crowding 
their  inner  world  of  thought ;  until,  by  their  poems, 
nations  were  entranced ;  before  their  canvas  races 
stood  in  breathless  awe  ;  beneath  their  spell  youth  and 
age  delighted  to  move  and  live,  to  think  and  feel. 
But  they  were  not  organizers.  They  were  not  rulers 
or  leaders  of  men,  either  in  Church  or  State. 

Distinct  from  all  these  endowments  of  soul  and  types 
of  manhood  is  he  who  can  unite,  harmonize,  govern 
and  control  masses  of  thinking,  passionate,  free-born, 
moral  beings,  respecting  the  individuality  of  each,  yet 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  131 

combining  all  into  a  supreme  unity  of  effort  and  con- 
fidence of  brotherhood. 

Such  men  are  kings  by  divine  right — crownless, 
scepterless,  throneless — nevertheless  monarchs  of  the 
purest  quality. 

Loyola  was  such  a  one.  Napoleon  was  such  a 
one.  Wesley  was  such  a  one.  He  was  born  to  the 
purple  if  ever  man  was.  He  learned  obedience  by 
the  things  which  he  suffered  in  younger  days,  and 
thus  became  educated  for  the  rank  and  work  of  moral 
royalty.  For  wko  best  obey — best  rule  ?  Obedience 
is  the  path  to  sovereignty.  And  never  spirit  of  rev- 
erence for  law  more  true  inhabited  human  body  than 
the  spirit  of  John  Wesley. 

The  capacity  of  his  mind  is  seen  in  the  perfection 
with  which  it  embraced  the  vastest  and  the  minutest 
circumstances  and  claims  upon  its  regard  and  con- 
trol. Surely  this  is  a  distinguishing  characteristic  of 
greatness.  Is  it  not  the  very  greatness  of  Deity  ?  He 
unites  the  immense  and  the  insignificant.  He  "  telleth 
the  number  of  the  stars ; "  "  he  bindeth  up  the  broken 
heart."  What  a  contrast  in  the  spheres  of  operation ! 
Yet  in  each  he  is,  and  he  acts  like  himself.  He, 
with  one  hand,  holds  the  stars,  and  with  the  other 
puts  my  tears  in  a  bottle ;  and  the  globelet  tear  is  as 
precious  in  his  sight  as  the  globe  that  marches  in 
pauseless  majesty  and  ever-radiant  splendor  along  the 
frontiers  of  lonely  space. 

Wesley  possessed  this  faculty  and  range  of  mind. 
Thus  was  he  fitted  to  become  an  organizer  and  an 
administrator. 

10 


132          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

He  was  certainly  liberally  endowed  with  the  faculty 
of  statesmanship.  He  was  a  born  ruler  of  men.  At 
the  University  of  Oxford  this  was  speedily  and  frank- 
ly recognized  and  acknowledged.  He  was  the  fit  and 
efficient  head  of  the  "  Godly  Club "  of  students 
who  earned  for  themselves  the  nick-name  of  "  Meth- 
odists." To  Wesley  they  looked  up ;  by  Wesley  were 
organized  and  maintained  in  mutual  interdependence 
and  concord.  His  aptitude  for  organizing  was  seen 
and  confessed  by  Whitefield.  To  it  we  owe  it  that  the 
fruit  of  Wesley's  herculean  labors  remains  in  the 
system  called  Methodism. 

What  he  gained  by  conversion  of  souls  he  retained 
by  marshaling  them  into  classes  and  placing  them 
under  the  oversight  of  leaders ;  thus  forming  societies 
and  churches  acknowledging  him  as  their  spiritual 
father  and  working  together  with  Mm  in  the  great 
mission  of  saving  souls. 

No  braver  hero  ever  trod  this  planet ;  and  no  sterner 
trials  ever  encompassed  and  assaulted  a  valorous  spirit 
than  Wesley  endured. 

It  seemed  as  though  his  presence  in  a  town  was  the 
signal  for  the  letting  loose  of  all  the  demoniac  passions 
of  depraved  humanity.  Men  became  furious  in  their 
rage  ;  women  forgot  their  sex  ;  magistrates  lost  their 
dignity  ;  clergymen  became  the  patrons  of  the  mob ; 
oaths,  ribaldry  and  obscenity  rent  the  air ;  stones  were 
hurled ;  clubs  fell  with  swift  and  deadly  stroke  ;  mud 
daubed  the  faces  and  stained  the  persons  of  the 
preacher  and  his  friends.  They  were  hooted  from 
street  to  street ;  chased  for  refuge  within  door  and 


WESLEY  AND  ins  HELPERS.  133 

house,  only  to  be  dragged  thence  amid  the  wildest 
rage  of  ruffians  half-inspired  by  Satan  and  half  by 
whisky.  They  were  haled  to  prison.  They  were 
plunged  in  horse-ponds.  They  were  trodden  down 
in  the  street.  They  were  hunted  like  wolves  from 
hamlet  to  hamlet.  Ballad-singers  mocked  them.  Par- 
sons from  their  pulpits  exhausted  Billingsgate  in  their 
vituperation.  Magazines  opened  their  pages  to  the 
pens  of  abusive  scribblers.  Bishops  of  London, 
Exeter,  Gloucester,  denounced  them  and  lampooned 
them.  Actors  caricatured  them  in  comedies  infamous 
for  their  coarseness  and  blasphemies. 

John  Wesley  was  denounced  as  a  Jesuit  and  a  secret 
friend  of  "  the  Pretender."  Charles  Wesley  and  some 
twelve  of  his  assistants  were  presented  by  the  grand 
jury  of  Cork  to  the  judge  of  assize  as  "common 
vagrants."  The  city  of  Cork  was  for  ten  days  in  the 
possession  of  a  mob  of  persecutors  headed  by  one 
Butler,  a  common  ballad-singer,  by  whom  the  houses 
of  the  Methodists  were  smashed  and  the  persons  of 
the  Methodists  insulted  and  wounded  ;  their  lives  were 
held  in  perpetual  terror ;  their  appearance  in  the  streets 
was  the  summons  for  a  general  assault  by  men  and 
women  more  like  the  citizens  of  Pandemonium  than 
of  a  town  in  Christendom  with  its  mayor  and  magis- 
trates and  clergy. 

And  yet  through  all  this  Wesley's  spirit  never 
quailed  ;  his  self-control  never  forsook  him ;  charity 
never  left  him ;  pity  for  the  souls  of  such  wild,  bar- 
baric Christians  filled  his  heart  and  flooded  his  eyes. 
Sometimes  his  look  awed  the  crowd  into  silence  ;  some- 


134          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

times  his  calm  appeal  to  them,  demanding  what  wrong, 
what  evil,  he  had  done,  thus  to  excite  their  malice, 
turned  the  hyenas  into  lambs ;  while,  not  seldom,  his 
very  foes,  tempted  to  listen  to  him,  dropped  their 
bludgeons  and  wept  as  he  addressed  their  hearts, 
becoming  actually  his  protectors  through  crowds 
thirsting  for  his  blood  and  sworn  to  take  his  life. 
But  his  Master's  spirit  never  faltered  in  his  apostolic 
nature.  These  sights  and  scenes  but  confirmed  his 
conviction  of  the  need  for  such  a  work  as  that  to 
which  he  had  consecrated  his  life  and  talents. 

Perhaps  history  does  not  afford  us  a  more  striking 
instance  of  the  power  of  decision  of  character  than 
that  furnished-  in  the  career  of  Wesley. 

He  chooses  his  principles  calmly,  prayerfully.  He 
selects  his  methods  with  prudence  and  with  tact.  He 
orders  his  action  so  as  to  fulfill  his  purpose.  His  aim 
is  noblest :  the  good — the  most  lasting  good  of  his 
fellow  men.  To  this  he  bends  and  constrains  all 
things.  Friendship  arid  literature ;  rest  and  recrea- 
tion ;  music  and  poetry ;  science  and  philosophy ;  his- 
tory and  biography ;  scholarship  and  authorship ;  the 
power  of  the  pen  and  the  power  of  the  tongue ;  the 
gift  of  organization  and  the  genius  which  controls 
men ;  all  these  were  concentrated  upon  the  one  ever- 
present,  ever-inspiring  purpose  of  his  life — to  save  men. 

Here  was  a  focalizing  object  of  life;  and  with 
utmost  intensity  all  his  forces  were  condensed  and 
applied  for  its  execution.  He  thought ;  he  read  ;  he 
prayed  ;  he  conversed  ;  he  corresponded ;  he  endured 
persecution ;  he  sacrificed  home  comforts ;  he  econo- 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  135 

mized  time ;  lie  lived  by  system ;  he  practiced  self- 
denial;  he  cultivated  benevolence;  he  braved  the 
scorn  of  men;  he  dared  the  violence  of  mobs; 
he  endured  slander;  he  outlived  defamation;  he 
turned  not  from  his  purpose,  faltered  not  in 
his  integrity,  fainted  not  in  his  courage;  but  with 
years  grew  m  strength  of  resolve  and  in  beauty 
of  character  and  in  beneficence  of  influence  and  in 
success  of  undertaking;  meeting  difficulties  but  to 
surmount  them ;  opposition,  but  to  obviate  it ;  suc- 
cess, but  to  be  invigorated  by  it ;  failure,  but  to  be 
aroused  by  it ;  until  the  age  confessed  his  power,  the 
nation  acknowledged  his  mission,  and  the  Church 
looked  upon  him  as  an  instance  of  zeal,  love,  labor, 
and  Christian  triumph  equaled  by  none  since  the 
days  when  apostolic  evangelists  went  forth  to  "turn 
the  world  upside  down,"  to  conquer  the  Roman  Em- 
pire and  subdue  the  world  to  the  obedience  of  Christ. 
Self-reliant,  self-possessed ;  calm,  clear-visioned ; 
fearless,  prudent;  thoughtful,  conscientious;  tender, 
strong;  gentle,  pure;  rich  in  sensibilities,  rigid  in 
logic ;  open  to  all  things  lovely,  recipient  of  all  things 
true;  feeding  the  lambs,  as  well  as  guarding  the 
sheep,  of  the  Christian  fold ;  onward  the  man  moves, 
undaunted,  undeterred,  uudistracted ;  equal  to  every 
crisis,  master  of  every  emergency ;  a  heart  all  aglow 
with  love ;  a  mind  all  luminous  with  truth ;  a  purpose 
all  clarified  by  simplicity;  care  cannot  wrinkle  his 
brow;  fretfulness  cannot  darken  his  eye;  bitterness 
cannot  irritate  his  spirit.  He  moves  in  light ;  and 
sheds  around  his  path  gladness,  serenity,  as  though 


136          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Ids  life  were  "  one  grand,  sweet  song,"  compared  with 
which  the  fabled  music  of  the  spheres  were  dissonance 
and  discord. 

Opposition  confronts  him ;  but  he  simply  replies, 
"  None  of  these  things  move  me."  New  objects  are 
suggested  to  him ;  but  his  response  is  simply,  "  This 
one  thing  I  do."  His  motives  are  maligned ;  but  his 
answer  is,  "  Whether  I  be  beside  myself,  it  is  to  God ; 
or  whether  I  be  sober,  it  is  for  your  cause ;  for  the  love 
of  Christ  constraineth  me."  If  men  would  stop  his 
mouth  and  bishops  threaten  excommunication,  his 
ready  spirit  replies,  "  I  cannot  but  speak  the  things 
which  I  have  seen  and  felt ;  woe  is  unto  me  if  I 
preach  not  the  Gospel  of  God ! " 

THE  HYMNOLOGY  OF  WESLEY. 

Christianity  began  its  career  with  music,  and  shall 
celebrate  its  consummated  triumphs  with  songs.  Angels 
sang,  "Glory  to  God  in  the  highest."  Angels  and 
men  shall  one  day  join  in  singing,  "  Thou  art  worthy, 
O  Lord,  to  receive  glory  and  honor  and  power." 
Christianity  shall  perpetuate  its  influences  under  the 
inspiration  of  music;  for  its  redeemed  immortals 
shall  "  sing  a  new  song." 

And  wherever  Christianity  has  decayed,  there 
music  has  forgotten  its  spell.  Despair  and  despond- 
ency are  not  the  parents  of  music.  With  Christianity 
comes  Hope,  and  this  is  the  mother  of  music — Love, 
and  this  is  the  parent  of  song. 

In  every  renewal  of  its  power,  Christianity  has 
"  rolled  away  the  stone  from  the  mouth  of  the  well " 


WESLEY  AJJD  HIS  HELPEBS.  137 

of  music  ;  it  lias  taken  the  harp  from  the  willow  and 
reset,  retimed,  reswept  it. 

'Twas  so  at  the  Reformation  in  Germany.  Con- 
gregational singing  became  a  reality  and  a  power 
under  the  inspiration  of  the  new  life  ushered  in  by 
the  instrumentality  of  Luther  and  his  compeers. 

'Twas  so  with  the  Wesleyan  revival.  Methodism 
appealed  to  the  heart  through  the  conscience;  first, 
to  sadden  and  disturb,  then  to  pacify,  purge,  ex- 
hilarate it.  Wesley  paid  special  attention  to  the  sing- 
ing of  his  followers,  and  wrote  vigorously  and  re- 
peatedly to  urge  effectiveness  in  this  department  of 
public  worship. 

God  gave  him  a  rare  helper  to  supply  the  need  of 
his  converts  and  disciples  in  this  matter.  Charles 
Wesley  became  the  poet  of  the  Methodist  revival ; 
and  in  many  respects  contributed  as  powerfully  to  the 
perpetuation  of  that  revival  as  did  John. 

No  one  who  has  studied  the  history  of  the  Wesleys 
has  failed  to  appreciate  the  wisdom  of  the  Highest  in 
selecting  such  an  agent  as  Charles  Wesley  to  be  the 
hymnologist  of  Methodism.  His  was  a  fervid  nature. 
He  had  all  the  sensibility  of  the  poet :  his  impulsive- 
ness, his  fitfulness,  his  imagination.  We  are  amazed 
at  the  sweep  of  wing  with  which  his  genius  was 
endowed;  to  what  altitudes  he  could  soar;  to  what 
depths  he  could  descend ;  o'er  what  an  amplitude  he 
could  gyrate  !  Now  he  voices  the  wailings  of  a  sin- 
oppressed  suppliant ;  now  he  carols  forth  the  exuber- 
ant ecstasies  of  "  a  soul  in  its  earliest  love."  Listen, 
and  you  catch  liiin  chanting  over  the  corse  of  a  brother 


138         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

deceased ;  hark !  for  now  he  is  pealing  out  the  wel 
come  home  of  a  spirit  passing  within  the  light  of  the 
sapphire  throne. 

He  goes  forth  with  the  workman  to  cheer  him  in 
his  faithful  toil  as  he  sings, 

Thee  may  I  set  at  my  right  hand, 
Whose  eyes  my  inmost  substance  see, 

And  labor  on  at  thy  command, 
And  offer  all  my  work  to  thee. 

He  retires  with  the  weary  worker  to  his  couch,  and 
soothes  him  into  dreamless  sleep  as  he  breathes  the 
lullaby  song, 

Jesus  protects!     My  fears  begone  I 

What  can  the  rock  of  ages  move  ? 
Safe  in  thine  arms  I  lay  me  down — 

Thine  everlasting  arms  of  love. 

"Whether  the  believer  work  or  watch ;  whether  he 
Buffer  or  rejoice ;  whether  he  fight  or  die ;  whether 
he  bow  down  in  closet  fellowship  with  God,  or  blend 
his  sympathies  with  the  chosen  few,  or  throng  the 
temple  with  kindred  worshipers ;  whether  he  present 
his  babe  for  baptism,  or  celebrate  his  Master's  dying 
victory — crowned  love ;  whether  the  saint  be  climbing 
the  hill,  or  whether  from  its  burnished  crests  his 
raptured  eye  travels  over  the  landscape  of  the  promised 
Canaan ;  whether  the  state  be  that  of  the  backslider, 
or  that  of  the  tempted,  or  that  of  the  triumphant ; 
whether  Satan  darkens  the  spirit  with  his  dusky 
wing,  or  deeper  draughts  of  holy  joy  elate  the  exult- 
ing heart  as  with  "  a  chalice  of  the  grapes  of  God  ; " 


WESLSY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  139 

whether  entering  into  the  life  of  faith  here,  or  pass- 
ing within  the  "  choral  circles  of  the  sons  of  light  " 
hereafter — for  each,  for  all,  of  these  experiences  and 
states  the  inspired  music  of  Charles  Wesley  supplies 
the  meet  and  fitting  vehicle  of  expression  in  his  all 
but  Oriental  opulence  of  composition. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  to  how  many  thousands  those 
songs  have  carried  consolation,  from  how  many  lonely 
hearts  they  have  expelled  the  demon  of  despair ;  on 
how  many  myriads  they  have  distilled  the  healing 
dew  of  divine  assurance ;  through  how  many  they 
have  poured  heroic  fortitude,  and  floated  foretastes 
of  the  pleasures  that  are  for  evermore ;  how  many  rude 
tastes  they  have  refined ;  how  many  vulgar  natures 
they  have  cultured ;  how  many  illiterate  minds  have 
through  them  raised  their  hearts'  impassioned  long- 
ings while  in  prayer  they  led  astonished  and  grate- 
ful worshipers  beneath  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty, 
and  before  the  mercy-seat. 

The  future  of  Methodism  cannot  but  be  an  object 
of  intense  interest  to  every  student  of  history.  That 
she  may  be  satisfied  with  long  life,  is  the  prayer  of 
her  children ;  and  that  that  prayer  may  be  answered 
we  also  plead  :  Let  the  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God 
be  upon  her,  and  establish  thou  the  work  of  her 
hands ;  yea,  the  work  of  her  hands  establish  thou  it. 

Of  her  present  position,  as  to  the  numbers  reached 
by  her  ministry  the  world  over,  we  have  often  heard. 
Some  thirteen  millions  listen  to  her  ministrations  of 
truth,  and  share  in  her  pastoral  oversight.  The  sun 
sets  not  on  her  dominion.  Her  people  are  found  in 


GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

every  land,  and  abide  in  every  zone.  All  climates 
embrace  them — the  winters  of  Hudson's  Bay  and  the 
suns  of  India  play  and  beat  upon  them.  They  locate 
in  forests  and  they  throng  the  marble  city.  Pacific 
waves  ripple  upon  their,  shores,  and  peaks  crowned 
with  eternal  snow  fling  their  shadows  o'er  their  dwell- 
ings. From  the  deep,  dark  mine  and  from  the  bank- 
er's mansion  Methodism  gathers  her  congregations.  Of 
skins  burned  by  tropic  heat  and  of  complexions  fair 
as  the  lily  her  scholars  are  composed.  Tribes  just 
emerging  from  the  h'lthiness  of  savagedom  unite  with 
households  embellished  and  enriched  by  all  that  cult- 
ure and  piety  can  impart  in  calling  her  blessed. 

She  has  found  men  paupers ;  she  has  made  them 
millionaires.  She  has  found  men  ignorant ;  she  has 
made  them  scholars.  She  has  found  men  debased; 
she  has  crowned  them  with  glory  and  honor.  She 
has  found  men  outlawed ;  she  has  made  them  dutiful 
and  law-abiding,  citizens. 

She  is  in  her  second  century ;  and  yet  nor  wrinkle 
upon  her  brow,  nor  haze  in  her  vision,  nor  stoop  in 
her  form,  nor  halt  in  her  step  gives  sign  of  wasted 
energy  and  declining  vigor.  Still  her  sanctuaries  are 
Bethesdas,  and  her  prayer-meetings  Bethels.  Still  her 
sons  speak  with  the  enemy  in  the  gate,  and  her  daugh- 
ters are  "  all  glorious  within."  Still  she  gathers  in  the 
street  Arab,  and  sends  her  missionaries  to  Orient 
fields  of  toil  and  death.  She  multiplies  her  places  of 
worship  at  the  rate  of  two  for  every  day  of  the  year. 
Her  doctrines  are  to-day  as  when  Wesley  died ;  her 
philanthropy  is  as  broad,  her  relations  to  other 


WESLEY  AND  HIS  HELPERS.  141 

Churches  as  catholic  as  when  Wesley  said,  "  The 
world  is  my  parish,  and  we  are  the  friends  of  all,  the 
enemies  of  none." 

The  world  needs  her;  and  she  shall  not  perish! 
The  churches  need  her ;  and  she  shall  not  perish  ! 
She  believes  still  in  conversion ;  and  she  shall  not 
perish !  She  still  holds  forth  Christ  crucified ;  and 
she  shall  not  perish  !  She  still  believes  in  the  Holy 
Ghost,  the  Lord  and  Giver  of  life ;  and  she  shall  not 
perish ! 

She  has  had  dissension,  but  she  lives !  She  has  had 
bitter  antagonisms ;  but  she  lives !  A  brighter  future 
is  in  store  for  her.  The  Spirit  of  Peace  broods  within 
her  council-chambers.  The  spirit  of  unity  hovers  over 
her  camps.  Feuds  shall  be  forgotten.  Strifes  shall 
be  no  more  named  by  her. 

Baptized  into  the  fullness  of  the  blessing  of  the 
Gospel  of  Christ,  she  shall  move  forth  resplendent 
with  every  virtue;  all  aglow  with  "the  dew  of  her 
youth ; "  bright  as  the  sun ;  fair  as  the  moon ;  and 
terrible  as  an  army  with  banners !  And  having  con- 
quered a  world  for  her  divine  Head,  and  as  she 
reposes  within  the  mild  splendors  of  the  latter-day 
glory,  even  angels,  as  they  bend  o'er  the  scene,  shall 
exclaim :  "  How  lovely  are  thy  tents  and  thy  dwell- 
ings, O  people  ;  the  little  one  has  become  a  thousand, 
and  the  small  one  a  strong  nation ;  I  the  Lord  have 
done  it  for  mine  own  name's  sake !  " 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 


"V. 

SAVONAROLA,  THE  MARTYR  OF  FLORENCE, 
AND  HIS  TIMES.* 

IN  the  days  of  the  Italian  Republics  the  chiefs  of  the 
sisterhood  of  cities  were  known  by  some  special 
epithet  compendiously  descriptive  of  their  peculiar 
charms  and  idiosyncrasies.  Rome  was  the  Eternal 
City,  Naples  the  Beautiful,  Genoa  the  Superb,  Lucca 
the  Industrious,  Padua  the  Learned,  Bologna  the  Fat, 
and  Florence  the  Gentle.  This  epithet,  as  a  word,  is 
equal  to  our  "  genteel,"  but  this  word  only  partially 
conveys  the  ideas  comprised  in  the  Italian  word 
gentili.  In  the  mouth  of  an  Italian  the  idea  ex- 
pressed by  it  includes  all  the  amenities  and  agreeable- 
ness  which  result  from  a  high  state  of  civilization  and 
social  culture.  It  is  of  all  words  that  which  most 
completely  expresses  what  is,  in  truth,  the  especial 
quality  of  the  city  of  Florence  and  the  Florentines, 
and  never  was  epithet  more  happily  applied.  It  is 
built  upon  the  Arno,  and  is  favored  with  the  most 
salubrious  climate  of  the  peninsula,  and  is  the  pride 
of  the  refined  and  polished  citizens. 

Florence  is  indeed  the  city  of  flowers,  and  the 
flower  of  cities.  But  it  is  not  of  the  Florence  of  to- 
day I  wish  to  speak.  We  shall  travel  back  full  four 
centuries  ere  we  have  reached  the  period  in  which  the 

*  A  lecture  written  partly  in  South  Africa,  atid  partly  in  America. 


SAVONAROLA.  143 

events  occurred  of  which  I  propose  to  speak  to-night. 
The  cycle  of  time  embraced  is  full  of  the  most  thrill- 
ing and  startling  events  of  the  latter  part  of  the 
Middle  Ages. 

Savonarola  was  born  in  1452,  and  suffered  martyr- 
dom in  1498,  being  forty-six  years  old  when  his  ashes 
were  flung  into  the  Arno.  The  year  of  his  birth  saw 
the  birth  of  the  invention  which,  more  than  any  other, 
contributed  to  the  elevation  of  humanity.  It  drew 
forth  thought ;  it  gave  it  circulation ;  it  secured  for  it 
imperishable  existence;  it  cheapened  literature;  it 
emancipated  conscience  ;  it  sapped  the  basis  of  super- 
stition ;  it  furnished  the  weapon  of  assault  against  all 
forms  of  tyranny  and  all  systems  of  error ;  the  friend  of 
freedom,  the  servant  of  truth,  and  the  handmaid  of  sci- 
ence. Before  it  ignorance  dissolves  as  mists  from  the 
pathway  of  the  sun.  Behind  it  stretch  and  rise  and 
flourish  whatsoever  things  in  heart  are  lovely  ;  what- 
soever things  in  morals  are  just ;  whatsoever  things 
in  society  are  true ;  whatsoever  things  in  all  worlds 
are  of  good  report,  as  refiners,  educators,  and  ennoblers 
of  human  thought,  taste,  and  character.  And  all  these 
and  more  were  born  with  the  invention  of  printing 
in  1452. 

In  1453,  when  Savonarola  lay  wrapt  in  cozy  blan- 
kets, hushed  to  slumber  by  the  melodious  voice  of  his 
Italian  nurse,  the  thunder  of  Mohammed's  artillery 
burst  and  floated  over  the  placid  waters  of  the  Bos- 
phorus;  opened  pathways  through  the  broken  walls 
of  Constantinople  for  his  fanatic  warriors;  pealed 
forth  the  downfall  of  the  empire  of  the  Caesars,  and 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

X 

planted  the  standard  of  the  false  prophet  above  the 
cross  which  gleamed  upon  the  dome  of  St.  Sophia. 
The  conqueror  was  one  of  the  most  gifted  and  cult- 
ured of  his  race  and  lineage.  He  was  learned  in  all  the 
wisdom  of  his  day;  the  master  of  five  languages- 
Arabic,  Persian,  Chaldean,  Latin,  Greek.  He  was 
familiar  with  the  geography  of  the  world,  with  the 
lives  of  Eastern  heroes,  with  the  principles  of  theology, 
and  with  the  arts  of  the  sculptor  and  the  painter.  Early 
bred  to  warfare,  he  was  a  successful  soldier,  if  not  an 
able  general,  and  the  conquest  of  two  empires,  twelve 
kingdoms,  and  two  hundred  cities  is  attributed  to  his 
invincible  sword.  From  the  hour  he  ascended  his 
throne  Mohammed  resolved  upon  the  conquest  of  Con- 
stantinople, and  he  realized  his  ambition,  while  as 
yet  "  our  martyr  "  knew  no  braver  joy  than  counting 
his  toes  or  admiring  the  nails  upon  his  tiny  fingers  as 
he  lay  upon  his  mother's  lap,  bathed  in  the  mellow 
light  that  streamed  through  the  vine-leafed  and  mul- 
lioned  window. 

The  results  of  this  historic  tragedy  were  already 
felt  throughout  the  cities  of  Italy.  The  scholars  of 
the  East  fled  from  their  city,  from  the  relentless  scim- 
iter  of  the  Turk,  to  find  a  cordial  welcome  in  the 
land  of  Yirgil,  of  Dante,  and  of  Petrarch.  They 
brought  with  them  the  wealth  of  Orient  literature  in 
manuscript,  for  whose  possession  cities  were  to  rival 
and  outbid  each  other,  even  by  fabulous  sums.  The 
palaces  of  the  nobles  greeted  those  scholars  as  if  they 
had  been  princes ;  the  universities  vied  with  each 
other  in  the  ardor  with  which  they  sought  to  decipher 


SAVONAROLA.  1-15 

the  time-soiled,  almost  sacred,  scrolls  of  Grecian  minds ; 
Plato  and  Aristotle  lived  again  and  walked  and  ques- 
tioned, idealized  and  floated  upon  the  gossamer  webs 
of  their  sublime  speculation,  beneath  skies  as  soft  and 
amid  groves  as  fragrant  as  those  of  their  beloved 
Athens.  The  earthquake  which  shook  the  turrets  and 
bastions  of  the  City  of  the  Golden  Horn  to  their 
foundations  upheaved  the  waters  of  literature  from 
their  olden  and  narrow  beds,  and  rolled  them  upon 
other  shores,  there  to  scatter  their  spoils  and  give  up 
their  hidden  treasure-trove  into  what  proved  to  be  the 
keeping  of  most  enthusiastic  guardians. 

In  1482,  while  our  heroic  subject,  immured  in  his 
convent,  studied  the  subtleties  of  the  schoolmen  of 
the  middle  ages,  sounded  the  depths  of  St.  Augustine, 
banqueted  on  the  viands  of  Greek  philosophy  dis- 
pensed before  him  in  the  manuscripts  just  named, 
communed  with  such  portions  of  the  sacred  Scriptures 
as  were  accessible  to  him,  the  Moors  of  Granada  had 
bowed  to  the  vigorous  arm  of  Ferdinand,  and  ceased 
to  retain  a  strong  hold  upon  the  peninsula  of  Spain. 
Hither  they  had  attracted  the  learning  of  Arabia,  of 
Persia,  of  India,  of  Greece.  Unlike  him  who  hated 
learning,  and  gave  up  the  library  of  Alexandria  to 
heat  the  baths  of  the  city,  many  of  the  Moorish 
princes  were  the  generous  patrons  of  letters.  They 
were  among  the  earliest  discoverers  of  gunpowder, 
and  to  them  we  owe  the  great  invention  of  paper. 
They  were  versed  in  chemistry,  astronomy,  and  math- 
ematics ;  they  encouraged  the  peaceful  arts ;  tropical 
plants  were  introduced  and  cultured  by  them,  as  also 


146         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

irrigation  and  the  production  of  sugar,  while  the 
forms  of  their  graceful,  elaborate,  and  ethereal  archi- 
tecture were  either  mirrored  in  the  soft-flowing  waters 
of  full  many  a  river,  or  reposed  against  the  cloudless 
azure  of  a  Spanish  sky. 

After  a  possession  of  eight  hundred  years,  the  chiv- 
alric,  cultured,  and  warrior  people  succumbed  to  the 
united  forces  of  Spain — forces  improved  by  patriotism 
and  baptized  into  zeal  for  the  true  faith  of  a  Chris- 
tian. Granada  was  taken,  and  henceforth  the  Saracen 
became  an  alien  and  an  outcast  from  the  most  Catholic 
of  Catholic  empires.  What  the  Crescent  gained  upon 
the  Bosphorus  was  lost  forever  upon  the  banks  of  the 
Guadalquivir. 

And  yet  once  more,  in  1492,  while  Savonarola  was 
swaying  the  multitudes  of  Florence  by  his  resistless 
oratory,  another  Italian,  born  in  the  city  of  Genoa, 
trained  to  the  sea,  given  to  the  study  of  geography 
and  charts,  and  possessed  by  a  sublime  desire  to  pierce 
the  mists  that  hung  upon  the  western  wave,  and  teach 
and  plant  the  cross  upon  a  new  and  wealthier  shore, 
wandered  from  city  to  city  of  Europe,  visiting  court 
after  court,  with  the  intent  of  obtaining  patronage 
from  the  mighty  for  the  furtherance  of  his  magnifi- 
cent dream. 

To  Yenice  he  had  offered  his  project ;  to  Portugal 
he  had  applied  for  help;  to  Henry  the  Seventh  of 
England  he  sent  his  brother,  if  haply  he  might  win 
his  suit ;  finally  from  Ferdinand  and  Isabella  of  Spain 
he  obtained  permission  to  expound  his  projects,  and, 
after  prolonged  and  learned  discussion,  he  obtained 


SAVONAROLA.  147 

from  them  assurance  of  all  needful  help  in  the -prose- 
cution of  his  daring  adventure;  and  on  the  3rd  of 
August,  1492,  Cliristopher  Columbus  set  sail  for  a  new 
world,  and  won  a  continent  for  his  sovereign  by  the 
majesty  of  his  genius,  opened  a  new  and  lofty  porch 
through  which  the  luminaries  of  the  Cross  might  pass 
upon  their  benign  embassy  of  "  peace  and  good-will 
to  men,"  and  spread  new  fields  for  enterprise,  discov- 
ery, and  wealth  before  the  frenzied  gaze  of  Chris- 
tendom. 

In  1498,  five  years  after  the  conquest  of  Granada 
by  Ferdinand  and  Isabella,  and  while  our  hero  was 
suffering  the  last  pangs  of  his  martyrdom,  passing  to 
heaven  in  his  chariot  of  flame,  a  youth  was  singing 
in  the  streets  of  a  German  town  for  daily  bread  and 
for  the  payment  of  his  school-master.  Born  of  hum- 
ble birth,  but  of  honest,  God-fearing  parents,  the 
boy  early  evinced  talent,  and  when  placed  at  school 
evoked  the  sympathies  and  won  the  admiration  of 
his  teachers  for  his  ease  and  grace  in  composition 
and  for  his  gifts  of  eloquence  and  elocution.  Yield- 
ing to  influence  he  became  a  monk,  rose  to  eminence 
in  liis  convent,  won  the  honors  of  his  university  and 
a  professor's  chair. 

Searching  after  truth  and  rest  he  visited  Rome,  and 
returned  thence  disgusted  and  shocked  with  the  pro- 
fanity and  hypocrisy  of  those  in  high  places  there. 
In  heart  a  Protestant,  and  in  destiny  the  reformer  of 
Germany,  the  solitary  monk  that  shook  the  pillars  of 
the  fabric  of  popery  proclaimed  a  new  era  for  the 

faith   and  freedom  of  men;    gave  his  fatherland  a 
11 


148          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

classic  tongue,  and  ushered  in  that  day  of  progress  in 
science,  in  state-craft  and  civilization,  under  whose 
splendid  noon  you  and  I  bask  and  rejoice. 

There  could  not  be  a  more  thrilling  period,  there- 
fore, than  that  in  which  the  cliief  personage  of  our 
lecture  lived  his  eventful  career.  The  night  of  the 
past  was  gliding  away,  the  dawn  of  this  new  day  al- 
ready gilding  the  horizon. 

Florence  had  played  no  mean  part  in  the  drama  of 
European  life.  Her  story,  during  the  centuries  im- 
mediately preceding  that  in  which  our  tale  lies,  had 
been  one  of  thrilling  fascination.  Her  power  resided 
in  her  wealth.  She  was  one  of  the  first  of  Italian 
Republics,  Commerce  created  her  wealth,  her  power, 
her  fame.  Her  nobles  who  aspired  to  place  in  the 
rule  of  the  Republic  were  compelled  to  learn  and 
practice  trade  as  a  necessary  qualification.  Guilds  of 
the  trades  were  formed  and  framed  by  wisely  defined 
laws,  and  placed  under  the  control  of  priors  or  deans. 
There  was  but  little  scope  for  agriculture ;  the  citizens 
were,  therefore,  compelled  to  manufacture.  Silk  and 
cloth  were  the  staples.  To  acquire  the  raw  material 
the  East  was  visited  even  to  China ;  the  north  as  far 
as  bleak,  chill  England ;  the  south  to  the  States  of 
Barbary.  The  furs  of  Siberia,  the  cocoons  of  China, 
the  gems  and  gold  of  Golconda  and  Ceylon,  the  wool 
of  Spain  and  of  France,  all  were  levied  to  fill  their 
looms  and  load  their  hawkers  and  their  galleys.  These 
Florentines  were  the  chief  bankers  of  Europe.  Ninety 
houses  represented  them  in  Turkey  alone.  They  lent 
to  the  monarchs  of  Christendom,  and  wielded  the  fates 


SAVONAROLA.  149 

of  peoples  and  states  through  their  bankers  and  envoys. 
Their  customers  included  all  ranks.  Florentine 
silks  gave  to  the  royal  dame  new  beauty ;  Florentine 
tapestries  covered  the  castle  walls  of  British  barons 
with  sumptuous  and  gorgeous  colors.  Along  the  Eu- 
phrates and  the  shores  of  the  Black  Sea  their  vessels 
pushed  their  keels.  Popes  were  glad  to  borrow  from 
them ;  and  so  influential  had  they  become,  that  Flor- 
entines were  members  of  the  principal  and  most 
powerful  embassies  to  the  courts  of  Europe. 

Foremost  among  the  merchant  families  of  this  re- 
nowned republican  city  was  the  house  of  Cosimo  de7 
Medici. 

The  de'  Medici  family  has  made  a  deep  mark  in 
the  history  of  Europe — civil  and  religious.  The 
founder,  a  Florentine  merchant,  won  the  esteem  and 
the  confidence  of  his  fellow  citizens  by  his  talents,  his 
wealth,  his  generous  hospitality,  and  his  public  spirit. 
He  amassed  a  large  fortune,  which  he  made  contribu- 
tory to  the  embellishment  of  his  city,  the  encourage- 
ment of  art,  and  the  promotion  of  literature  and 
learning. 

Of  the  descendants  of  Cosimo  de'  Medici  the  most 
renowned  in  Tuscan  life  was  Lorenzo,  named  the 
Magnificent.  All  that  scholarship  could  do  to  culture 
and  enrich  his  mind — all  that  friendship  and  converse 
with  famed  poets,  artists,  statesmen,  could  offer  to 
the  refinement  of  his  taste  and  the  augmentation  of 
his  knowledge — was  placed  at  his  command  by  his 
father  during  his  youth,  and  by  his  own  wealth  and 
taste  when  he  had  reached  maturity  of  manhood  and 


150         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

of  power.  His  state  was  princely.  Three  country 
villas  were  erected  for  his  luxurious  retreat  from  the 
toils  of  political  life  and  after  the  care  of  his  bank- 
ing-house. Here  were  collected  busts,  vases,  cameos, 
manuscripts  for  whose  possession  every  city  of  Eu- 
rope had  been  rifled,  every  library  of  Greece  ran- 
sacked. Here,  in  the  cool  of  the  evening,  along  spa- 
cious and  pillared  corridors^  within  the  shadows  of 
poplar  and  citron  and  mulberry  groves,  with  no  music 
save  that  of  the  nightingale  or  the  mellifluous  ripple 
of  the  sportive  fountain  and  the  crystal  cascade — 
here,  and  amid  such  scenes  of  munificence  in  art  and 
beauty  in  nature,  met  and  talked  the  ripest  scholars, 
the  sagest  politicians,  the  painters  most  renowned, 
the  sculptors  destined  to  perpetuity  of  fame  in  marble 
and  in  bronze.  Here  one  emulated  Plato,  another 
rehearsed  Aristotle,  a  third  reasoned  of  immortality ; 
until  it  seemed  that  Time  had  retraced  his  flight,  and 
the  ages  before  the  advent  of  the  Babe  of  Bethlehem 
revolved  with  all  the  far-famed  splendor  of  the 
teachers  of  Athens. 

This  Lorenzo  gave  a  son  to  the  Papacy  in  the  per- 
son of  Leo  X.,  upon  whom,  while  yet  a  lad  of  thir- 
teen, a  cardinal's  hat  had  been  conferred  by  the 
reigning  pontiff.  A  son  of  Innocent  VIII.  married 
one  of  his  daughters ;  from  his  house  a  second  pope 
was  elected  ;  while  from  the  same  family  descended 
the  queen-mother  of  Charles  of  France,  through  whose 
policy  of  state-craft  and  pollution  of  court  life  the 
Protestantism  of  France  was  all  but  crushed,  and  by 
whose  bloodthirsty  treachery  the  massacre  of  Saint 


SAVONAROLA.  151 

Bartholomew  won  for  France  a  heritage  of  infamy, 
for  the  miserable  monarch  a  life  of  remorse  and  a 
death  of  agony  and  terror,  and  for  the  she-wolf  her- 
self the  detestation  of  her  sex  and  her  race  wherever 
her  deeds  shall  be  rehearsed  and  her  name  whispered. 

This  house  had  reached  the  acme  of  its  power 
when  Savonarola  filled  the  office  of  Prior  of  the 
Convent  of  St.  Mark. 

The  times,  religiously,  were  dark  and  dreary ;  re- 
ligion existed  but  in  name  among  the  highest  circles 
of  the  Church.  Pope  and  prelate  and  priest  were  one 
in  pollution,  in  worthlessness,  and  infamy.  The  lead- 
ing orders  of  the  Church,  the  Franciscan  and  Domin- 
ican, had  lost  their  primitive  simplicity,  purity,  and 
moral  power.  Sworn  to  poverty,  they  became  afflu- 
ent ;  to  humility,  they  were  sated  with  ambition  ;  to 
chastity,  they  were  paragons  of  licentiousness.  The 
heads  of  the  Church,  it  is  well  known,  gained  an  un- 
enviable notoriety  for  their  licentiousness,  avarice, 
and  mendacity.  They  were  not  ashamed  to  secure 
wives  for  their  illegitimate  sons,  and  negotiate  for 
the  hands  of  royal  princes  on  behalf  of  their  bastard 
daughters. 

But  of  all  the  vile  ones  that  ever  won  the  triple 
crown  of  St.  Peter,  Alexander  VI.,  who  occupied  the 
papal  seat  during  Savonarola's  last  years,  bore  off  the 
palm.  Even  the  most  loyal  of  Romanists  are  com- 
pelled to  confess  with  shame  and  loathing  the  vices 
of  the  monster.  He  was  of  Spanish  blood,  a  Borgia 
by  name  ;  he  had  studied  for  the  law,  but  relinquished 
it  for  a  military  life  ;  and  thence  was  raised  to  a  car- 


152         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

dinal  deaconship  by  Pope  Calixtus  Y.  Even  then 
liis  infamies  were  public.  When  on  ernbassage  at  the 
court  of  Lisbon  he  was  compelled  to  retire  by  order 
of  the  king  because  of  his  shameless  immoralities. 
His  avarice  was  unbounded.  To  gain  his  ends  the 
stiletto  and  the  poisoned  cup  were  ever  at  command. 
No  law,  human  or  divine,  hindered  him  in  his  desire 
of  gratifying  his  wishes  or  his  whims.  His  court  at 
Rome  might  be  termed  a  sty  where  human  swine 
wallowed  ;  a  murderer's  den  where  dark  plots  were 
hatched  and  schemes  of  plunder,  pollution,  and  death 
concocted.  He  died  from  the  effects  of  poison  which 
he  had  ordered  for  another,  but  which  had  been  in 
mistake  handed  to  himself  by  his  cup-bearer. 

Thus  perished  the  most  infamous  pope — indeed  the 
most  infamous  man  in  history— a  proverb  of  reproach 
and  shame.  He,  more  than  any  other,  hastened  the 
Reformation  of  Luther.  Such  criminalities  could  not 
but  shock  Christendom,  and  bring  religion  into  uni- 
versal and  unmitigated  contempt  and  derision.  And 
by  so  much  was  the  course  opened  for  the  burly  Ger- 
man revolutionist.  The  system  waited  but  the  touch 
of  a  firm  and  honest  hand  to  shake  it  from  its  base- 
ment and  heap  upon  it  the  execration  of  a  rejoicing 
universe. 

And  if  such  were  the  head  of  the  Church,  what 
could  be  expected  of  the  members  of  that  body  ? 
What  but  that  which,  sad  to  say,  existed  throughout 
Italy?  On  the  one  hand  was  gross,  brutal,  stupid  su- 
perstition, with  all  its  attendant  impurities,  false- 
hoods, gross  obscenity  in  practice,  murders  fearfully 


SAVONAROLA.  153 

numerous,  domestic  trust  violated,  forms  believed  in  as 
powers  for  holiness,  routine  in  services  a  satisfaction 
for  heinous  sins  and  unconfessed  iniquities.  The 
whole  head  was  sick,  the  whole  heart  faint.  Wounds, 
bruises,  and  putrefying  sores  were  there,  without  a 
healing  balsam  or  a  skillful  physician  to  arrest  and 
renovate. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  where  there  existed  supe- 
rior intelligence  and  culture,  what  could  be  antici- 
pated save  skepticism,  infidelity,  mocking  at  things 
sacred,  sneering  at  the  faith  of  Christianity,  speak- 
ing of  religion  as  a  mockery,  and  of  the  priesthood, 
even  to  the  highest  officer  therein,  as  but  a  means 
for  the  acquisition  of  pelf  or  power  or  pollution  ? 
What  wonder  that  Plato  should  rival  Peter,  that 
Socrates  should  share  the  temple  with  the  Saviour 
of  men,  that  Moses  and  Mohammed  should  claim 
equal  rank  and  wield  an  equal  sovereignty  ?  Kings 
intrigued  against  their  rivals ;  marriage  was  used  as 
a  method  for  the  acquisition  of  thrones ;  the  Church 
was  appealed  to,  by  bribe  and  flattery,  by  either  con- 
testant in  the  arena  of  political  warfare,  and  in  turn 
helped  each,  never  failing  to  win  aggrandizement 
whatever  might  be  the  side  chosen. 

The  light  had  become  darkness,  the  fount  of  truth 
had  been  poisoned,  and  its  floods  conveyed  but  pesti- 
lence and  death  whithersoever  they  rolled.  Men, 
here  and  there,  longed  for  some  signal  of  the  dawn 
of  a  new  and  holier  day.  In  cloister,  in  convent,  in 
university,  was  this  feeling  cherished  —  were  these 
wishes  fed.  Dark  days,  it  was  felt,  had  visited  our 


154         GIJAKD'S  LECTUKES  AKD  ADDKESSES. 

weary  world.  Are  we  forgotten  by  even  God  ? 
Hath  he  shut  up  his  tender  mercies  in  anger  ?  Hath 
he  given  up  this  orb  to  be  pillaged  by  human  fiends 
and  decimated  by  kingly  tyrants  ?  Help,  Lord,  for 
the  godly  man  ceaseth  ;  for  the  righteous  fail  from 
the  children  of  men. 

Savonarola  appears  upon  the  Italian  sky — a  bright, 
splendid,  but  evanescent  star,  sudden  in  its  burst  of 
glory,  brief  in  its  hour  of  beaming,  and  gloomy  in  its 
setting  within  a  sea  of  blood. 

The  earlier  period  of  Savonarola's  life  may  be 
briefly  narrated.  As  the  grandson  of  the  physician 
of  the  Ducal  Court  of  Ferrara,  he  is  advantaged  in 
the  refining  influences  of  the  society  with  which  he 
mingles.  He  receives  the  best  education  of  his  age, 
and  proves  an  apt  scholar  and  an  accomplished  stu- 
dent. Disappointed  in  love  and  disgusted  with  what 
he  saw  of  the  immoral  life  of  the  city  and  times,  he 
seeks  refuge  in  the  Dominican  Convent  of  Bologna, 
whither  he  fled  without  the  cognizance  of  his  parents  ; 
but  to  them  he  writes  of  his  inflexible  resolve  to 
henceforth  devote  his  life  to  religious  exercises. 

He  takes  the  lowest  place  in  this  convent,  and  per- 
forms tasks  most  menial  during  the  first  year  of  his 
conventual  life.  But  his  bearing,  his  culture,  his 
piety,  his  ability  proclaim  him  fit  for  worthier  station 
and  duties,  and  he  is  appointed  lecturer  or  teacher  of 
the  less  erudite  members  of  the  brotherhood.  His  suc- 
cess in  this  new  role  wins  for  him  election  as  dele- 
gate from  his  convent  to  a  convention  of  the  order, 
held  in  Xorth  Italy,  where  he  meets  with  the  most 


SAVONAROLA.  15^ 

illustrious  members  of  his  order  and  the  most  culti- 
vated thinkers  of  his  age.  % 

Here,  too,  he  could  not  be  hid  ;  but,  as  a  bright  par- 
ticular star,  shone  with  such  brilliancy  and  power  as 
to  win  the  admiration  of  a  distinguished  citizen  of 
Florence — Mirandola  by  name — through  whom  the 
great  Lorenzo  of  Florence  was  informed  respecting 
the  appearance  of  this  new  orb  of  first  magnitude 
upon  the  sky  of  Italy. 

This  resulted  in  his  invitation  to  become  an  inmate 
of  the  convent  of  St.  Mark  at  Florence,  of  which 
Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  was  the  munificent  pa- 
tron. In  Florence  we  find  Savonarola,  surrounded 
by  a  confiding  and  admiring  fraternity  of  monks,  and 
the  object  of  much  curious  criticism  in  the  literary 
circles  of  which  Lorenzo  was  the  acknowledged 
center. 

His  learning  commands  unbounded  admiration  ;  his 
humility  and  his  aptness  to  teach  render  him  a  fasci- 
nating lecturer  to  the  brothers  of  the  convent  and  the 
citizens  who  join  them  as  an  audience  when  he  dis- 
coursed upon  ethics,  philosophy,  and  the  arts  beneath 
the  ample  shadows  of  the  noble  trees  adorning  the 
monastic  grounds. 

High  are  the  hopes  cherished  by  his  friends  when 
he  is  selected  as  Lenten  lecturer  in  one  of  the  city 
churches.  An  immense  congregation  waits  upon  his 
words  of  wisdom,  as  for  the  first  time  he  assumes  the 
office  of  preacher.  But,  alas,  the  doom  of  disappoint- 
ment is  their  lot !  The  speaker  is  in  manner  uncouth, 
in  speech  hesitating,  in  voice  unmusical  and  unskillful, 


156  -       GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

in  style  of  composition  dry  and  shallow.  The  au- 
diences dwindled  as  the  course  proceeds;  until  at 
the  close,  but  a  handful  remains  within  the  spacious 
sanctuary  to  greet  the  preacher's  dispirited  endeavor. 

Ashamed,  chagrined,  disheartened,  he  retires  from 
the  city  and  convent,  and  is  lost  amid  the  small  towns 
and  scattered  hamlets  of  Upper  Italy  for  several 
years.  He  returns  a  sadder  and  a  wiser  man.  He 
returns  renewed,  developed,  matured — welcomed  as 
before  and  loved  as  ever.  Critical  scrutiny  warrants 
his  appointment  again  as  Advent  preacher ;  when, 
before  a  startled  and  dazzled  crowd  within  the  Cathe- 
dral, an  orator  such  as  had  not  been  since  St.  John  of 
Constantinople  or  St.  Bernard  of  the  Crusades  bursts 
upon  the  overwhelmed,  the  enraptured  city  !  Assidu- 
ously had  he  cultivated  his  faculties  of  thought,  of 
language,  of  gesture,  and  of  voice.  The  ungainly  had 
become  graceful ;  the  awkward,  dignified ;  the  un- 
tuned voice  responded  with  matchless  flexibility  to 
the  will  of  its  sovereign — its  sovereign,  for  again  the 
pulpit  had  become  a  throne,  and  the  monarch  worthy 
of  it  was  the  monk,  the  prior  of  St.  Mark. 

lie  was  a  hero.  The  plague  visits  Florence.  It 
sweeps  its  thousands  to  the  tomb ;  they  are  buried  by 
seventy  in  a  day.  Commerce  is  paralyzed,  business 
suspended,  local  life  stagnates.  All  who  can,  flee  from 
the  fated  city.  Silence  reigns  in  its  market-places ; 
the  mourners  go  along  its  streets.  They  that  look 
out  of  the  windows  are  darkened ;  the  daughters  of 
music  are  brought  low.  What  an  oppressive  calm 
broods  over  the  fairest  and  gayest  of  people !  The 


SAVONAROLA.  -    157 

King  of  Terrors  is  upon  the  throne.  He  utters  his 
fiat — he  equips  his  emissaries — he  exults  in  the  mad- 
dening reign  of  his  rule.  The  mighty  and  the  mean 
bow  to  him,  the  learned  and  the  boor  render  him 
homage.  The  fair  and  the  foul  give  their  necks  to 
his  heel.  But,  while  hundreds  flee,  and  while  even 
the  monks  and  nuns  of  the  city  in  troops  depart  to 
spots  more  healthy  and  salubrious,  one  abides.  Savon- 
arola will  not  abandon  the  sick,  the  dying,  the 
wounded,  the  bereaved ;  he  will  even  send  the  more 
timid  of  his  monks  away  while  he  himself  remains  to 
organize  metho'ds  for  the  alleviation  of  the  woe. 

See  his  moral  heroism — courage.  There  is  evil  in 
the  city — in  its  high  places  as  in  its  low.  There  is 
lewdness  in  their  feasts  and  uncleanness  in  their  lux- 
uries of  art.  There  is  falsehood  and  deceit ;  there  is 
rivalry  and  revenge ;  there  is  materialism  and  infidelity ; 
crimes  are  of  constant  occurrence ;  the  night  favors  the 
assassin,  the  intriguer,  and  the  libertine.  The  priest- 
hood are  polluted ;  the  monasteries  are  faithless  ;  the 
nobles  are  tyrannical ;  the  merchants  are  false ;  woman 
is  sullied  ;  life  is  a  seething  mass  of  vice.  Over  the 
fated  city  the  seer's  eye  beholds  the  tokens  of  a  gath- 
ering storm  ;  to  his  frenzied  gaze  an  angel  with  drawn 
sword  hovers  prompt  to  obey  the  behest  of  heaven, 
and  bathe  its  ethereal  blade  in  the  breast  of  the  faith- 
less commonwealth.  And  from  the  pulpit  he  thun- 
ders forth  the  doom  pending.  He  spares  neither 
prince,  nor  priest,  nor  pope ;  evil  is  named  and  de- 
nounced ;  sin  detailed  and  depicted ;  from  the  most 
pictorial  portion  of  the  Bible  metaphors  are  selected 


158          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

as  descriptive  of  Florentine  life  and  of  the  penalties 
of  heaven  against  all  who  thus  sin. 

Lorenzo  may  frown,  the  young  men  of  the  chief 
families  sneer  and  satirize ;  the  pope  may  issue  his 
anathemas,  the  venal  Franciscans  may  report  him  to 
the  pope ;  and,  greater  than  all,  the  offer  of  a  car- 
dinal's hat  may  test  his  courage  and  try  his  fealty  to 
conscience.  Above  them  all  he  soars;  upon  them  all 
he  looks  down  with  an  infinite  repose.  Though  he 
begins  to  feel  the  pyre  being  piled  and  the  fagots 
heaped  and  kindled,  yet,  like  another  reformer,  none 
of  these  things  move  him.  His  path  may  lead  right 
onward  o'er  the  flint  and  thorn,  across  the  burning 
plowshare,  up  the  chill,  lone  heights  of  sorrow  ;  ignor- 
ing loss,  yet  o'er  these  he  will  tread  ;  for  only  thus  can 
the  whiteness  of  the  soul  be  kept,  and  thus  not  happi- 
ness is  greatness. 

He  was  an  orator.  What  are  the  essentials  of  elo- 
quence ?  There  shall  be  intellectual  vigor.  Truth 
shall  thus  be  apprehended  and  logically  arranged. 
To  make  others  see,  the  speaker  must  have  clearest 
perception  of  it.  Let  it  be  to  him  an  enhazed  object, 
then  to  his  audience  it  will  be  only  a  nebulous  mass 
and  filmy,  impotent  to  thrill  and  powerless  to  move 
a  passion  or  a  purpose  in  the  hearer's  soul.  He  must 
have  something  to  say  worth  saying ;  and  that  some- 
thing must  be  to  him  a  luminous,  a  living,  and  a  lofty 
reality,  seen,  grasped,  believed. 

There  shall  be  imagination — the  philosophic  imag- 
ination. This  is  an  imperial  faculty.  It  is  an  invent- 
ive power.  It  is  that  by  which  the  mind  combines 


SAVONAKOLA.  159 

multiformity  into  unity ;  and  by  the  combination 
produces  a  reality  which  at  once  satisfies  the  reason 
by  its  truth  and  moves  the  heart  into  admiration  by 
its  beauty  or  its  grandeur. 

Unlike  fancy,  imagination  deals  with  the  essence 
of  things.  Fancy  is  light  and  airy  in  her  movements ; 
Imagination,  stately  and  majestic.  Fancy  decorates 
and  embellishes ;  Imagination  creates  and  fashions 
into  massive  and  proportioned  forms.  Fancy  is  the 
soft  and  silver  moonlight  in  which  lovers  woo  and 
fairies  dance ;  Imagination  is  the  sunlight  through 
which  angels  wing  their  flight  on  embassies  of  law 
and  goodness  from  luminous  world  to  world,  or  in 
which  men  of  giant  mold  fight  against  and  vanquish 
the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil,  work  and  win  the 
food  of  truth  by  which  great  souls  are  nourished  and 
with  which  character  far-famed  and  immortal  is  fed 
and  fashioned.  '  This  is  the  vivifying  faculty  of  the 
mind.  This  is  the  unifying  power  of  the  intellect. 
This  is  the  idealizing  organ  of  the  understanding. 

With  this  power  of  thought  Burke  was  pre-emi- 
nently endowed ;  so,  too,  was  Webster.  And  in  a 
most  extraordinary  measure  was  it  the  gift  of  Emer- 
son and  the  distinguishing  characteristic  of  Thomas 
De  Quincey. 

Fancy  revels  in  variety ;  Imagination  exults  in 
unity.  Fancy  deals  with  the  superficial ;  Imagination 
with  the  profound.  Fancy  delights  in  the  accidental ; 
Imagination  in  the  essential.  Fancy  tabernacles  in 
the  evanescent ;  Imagination  abides  in  the  perma- 
nent. Of  Fancy  it  may  be  said,  "  the  things  seen  " 


160         GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

by  her  eye  "  are  temporal ; "  of  Imagination  it  may 
be  said,  "  the  things  seen "  by  her  "  are  eternal." 
Fancy  detects  resemblances ;  Imagination  discovers 
analogies.  Fancy  adorns  by  putting  on  Nature ;  Im- 
agination astonishes  and  adorns  by  bringing  forth  from 
Nature.  Fancy  adorns  by  robing  Nature  ;  Imagina- 
tion adorns  by  disrobing  Nature.  The  former  adds 
to  Nature  that  wherewith  she  hopes  to  embellish ; 
the  latter  lifts  the  veil  and  lets  Nature  reveal  her 
splendors. 

There  is  the  emotional  endowment.  We  cannot 
call  him  an  eloquent  man,  in  the  noblest  sense,  who  is 
not  generously  equipped  with  emotional  forces.  In- 
deed, his  heart  ought  to  be  as  deep  and  broad  an  ocean 
of  feeling  as  his  understanding  is  exalted  and  vast  as 
a  domain  of  thought.  As  the  orb  of  night  moves  the 
ocean  into  tidal  currents,  even  so  should  his  intellect- 
uality sway  and  heave  the  orator's  heart.  Else,  how 
can  he  move  his  audience?  Lacking  this  he  may 
convince ;  but  with  it  he  both  convinces  and  moves  : 
he  both  reveals  the  duty  of  the  hour  and  impels  to 
its  discharge,  to  its  performance. 

His  emotions  shall  gleam  in  the  eye,  shall  glow  in 
the  feature,  shall  thrill  in  the  piercing  or  tremulous 
tones  of  his  voice.  The  truth  presented  by  him  shall 
set  his  own  heart  on  fire,  and  then  will  enkindle  the 
heart  of  his  auditory  into  a  conflagration — every  heart 
an  active  volcano. 

Yet  shall  he  be  self-possessed,  master  of  himself, 
holding  the  winds  in  his  fists,  measuring  the  waters  in 
the  hollow  of  his  hands.  He  "  rides  in  the  whirlwind 


SAVONAROLA.  161 

and  directs  the  storm,"  both  in  his  own  and  in  his 
hearers'  breasts.  For  this  alone  is  power — over  him- 
self and  over  others. 

Then  there  must  be  the  moral — the  man — behind  all 
these.  This  is  absolutely  necessary.  He  believes,  and 
therefore  speaks.  He  cannot  but  speak  the  things 
which  he  has  seen  and  heard,  thought  out  and  felt. 
Not  as  a  rhetorician  is  he  presenting  his  faultlessly  fin- 
ished passages  and  periods ;  not  as  a  hired,  a  mercenary 
declaimer,  to  whom  a  brief  has  bees  handed,  and  whose 
business  it  is  to  make  the  worse  appear  the  better  cause. 
Mistaken  he  may  be,  but  he  believes  himself  right. 
For  himself  he  has  tested,  sounded,  the  verity  of  that 
whereof  he  speaks.  It  has  passed  through  the  fire  of 
his  own  criticism  and  experience.  And  he  stands  up 
to  proclaim  in  all  ears,  I  know  and  I  believe  in  that 
I  aver. 

Earnestness  and  intensity  are  bred  by  this.  He 
pleads  for  truth ;  he  persuades  for  righteousness'  sake. 
Artifice  and  trickery  he  cannot  tolerate.  Interests  of 
momentous  importance  are  involved.  To  them  he  is 
consecrated.  His  theme  possesses  him.  It  is  a  fire  in 
his  bones  ;  it  is  an  impulse  in  his  heart ;  it  is  vigor  in 
his  will.  He  is  but  the  organ,  the  vehicle,  through 
and  by  which  duty  speaks,  Deity  voices  his  benign,  his 
imperative,  decrees.  For  himself  he  seeks  not.  Favor 
he  craves  not.  Scorn  he  dreads  not.  One  purpose  is 
his :  conviction  in  his  hearers'  minds,  surrender  in  his 
hearers'  hearts,  reformation  in  his  hearers'  lives. 

No  thunder  of  acclaim  can  satisfy ;  no  wreath  of 
fame  upon  the  brow  can  compensate.  The  one  is 


1G2         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

breath ;  the  other  is  a  weed.  Manhood  transformed, 
conscience  triumphant,  justice  enthroned — these  he 
challenges  as  his  only  but  exceeding  great  reward  ! 

What  is  eloquence  ?  It  is  a  great  soul  filled  with 
great  thoughts,  moved  by  a  strong  conviction  of  their 
truth,  and  pouring  forth  its  utterances  with  lava-like 
force  of  fiery  relentlessness.  There  must  be  a  clear 
intellect  to  see,  seize,  and  arrange  truth.  There  must 
be  a  powerful  imagination  to  vivify,  group,  illustrate, 
and  adorn  truth,  to  seize  analogies  and  weave  met- 
aphor. There  must  be  an  honest  and  deep,  pure  heart ; 
emotion  equal  to  the  demands  of  the  intelligence  and 
the  creations  of  the  imagination ;  wisdom  and  truth 
coming  into  play  gradually  but  certainly,  under  con- 
trol— mightiest  when  least  boisterous ;  exultant,  severe, 
tender. 

There  must  be  voice  fitted  to  give  forth  the  thought ; 
a  suitable  duct  for  the  feelings,  under  wise  guidance, 
subject  to  well-known  rules ;  heard  by  the  speaker,  so 
as  to  kindle  feelings  in  his  own  heart  akin  to  that 
aflame  in  those  of  his  audience.  Gestures,  more  or 
less,  are  suitable  to  the  current  of  feeling,  style  of 
thinking;  appealing;  persuading;  entreating;  wav- 
ering ;  reasoning.  Presence  has  much  to  do  with  the 
effect  of  eloquence :  as  to  bulk  of  person ;  height  of 
figure ;  cast  of  contour.  The  whole  man  should 
speak,  from  the  smallest  toe  to  the  shortest  and 
youngest  hair;  every  intonation,  every  wave  of  the 
hand,  every  quiver  of  the  muscle,  every  glance, 
should  let  loose  the  soul  to  seize  and  shake,  to  soothe 
and  stimulate  the  uncaptured  listeners. 


SAVONAROLA.  163 

Savonarola  was  confessedly  an  orator — at  first  of 
most  imperfect  expression,  uncouth  manner,  impulsive 
rather  than  fascinating.  Although  saddened  when 
first  he  attempted  to  address  a  Florentine  audience,  he 
little  dreamed  to  what  a  throne  and  empire  he  would 
yet  climb  as  a  master  of  sentences  and  of  sounds. 

He  was  in  stature  of  middle  height ;  complexion 
fair ;  temperament  nervous ;  forehead  broad  and  lofty ; 
eyebrows  overhanging ;  a  mouth  of  flexibility  and 
variety  of  expression ;  nose  liigh  and  aquiline.  His 
voice  had  gained  a  magic  range  and  compass  even  for 
an  Italian ;  now  soft,  low,  subduing  as  a  mother's  when 
she  would  soothe  the  passion-fretted  infant  to  slumber ; 
now  swelling  into  organ-like  massiveness  and  sublimity ; 
again  terrific  when  denouncing,  awing,  foretelling 
approaching  tribulation.  Was  there  a  note,  or  stop, 
or  key,  or  pedal,  in  the  amazing  organ-spirit  of  man 
this  magnificent  genius  could  not  draw  forth  and  bid 
to  his  imperial  purpose  ? 

His  mind  had  been  well  trained  and  well  stored  with 
the  scholarship  and  knowledge  of  his  time.  He  was 
metaphorical ;  he  was  logical ;  he  was  poetical ;  his 
power  of  pictorial  description  has  never  been  sur- 
passed ;  his  audience  saw,  as  he  did,  the  scenes  he 
described ;  they  heard,  as  did  he,  the  crash  of  the  bolt 
and  the  rush  of  the  storm  of  vengeance.  The  largest 
building  in  Florence  was  too  small  to  contain  his 
hearers.  All  night  long  the  peasants  from  the  ham- 
lets, citizens  of  distant  towns,  journeyed,  that  by 
earliest  dawn  they  might  reach  the  gates  of  the  cathe- 
dral and  secure  a  sitting  or  a  foothold  for  standing. 
12 


164:         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Amphitheater-like  the  building  was,  for  the  time, 
arranged,  and  swarmed  with  living,  longing,  heaving, 
human  hearts,  drawn  by  the  fame  of  the  illustrious 
preacher ;  every  corner  contained  its  occupant ;  every 
niche  its  rapt  listener ;  they  climbed  around  and  clam- 
bered up  the  pillars  that  they  might  gaze  upon  the 
inspired  speaker.  Poets,  sages,  statesmen,  princes,  em- 
bassadors,  hung  upon  his  lips,  and  few  forgot  the  magic 
of  his  manner  and  of  his  appeals ;  they  wept,  they 
sighed,  they  sobbed ;  time  was  forgotten ;  sin  appeared 
exceedingly  awful ;  memory  revivified  the  past ;  con- 
science put  on  her  robe  of  judgment ;  duties  neglected 
stared  them  in  the  face  ;  death,  judgment,  immortality, 
moved  forth  to  receive,  doom,  and  seal  them.  From 
the  reporter's  fingers  the  pen  falls  as  his  entranced 
spirit  goes  out  to  meet  the  preacher's ;  no  business  is 
transacted,  day  by  day,  until  Savonarola  has  preached ; 
immorality  is  abashed  ;  social  delinquencies  are 
checked,  seemliness  in  dress  and  songs  becomes  almost 
universal. 

Children  feel  the  spell  of  the  weird  man;  they 
are  especially  thought  of  by  him,  and  special  services 
organized  in  their  behalf.  Some  thousands  at  a  time 
swarmed  to  the  cathedral  to  listen  to  the  matchless 
teacher.  They  were  formed  into  companies,  and  sent 
forth  through  the  city  bearing  a  commission  to  visit 
every  house,  explore  every  chamber,  and  demand 
from  the  owners  whatever  of  art,  of  jewelry,  or  of 
luxury  they  owned  that  suggested  impurity  or  fostered 
vice.  These  spoils  they  collected  and  heaped  into  a 
large  pyramid  in  the  principal  square  of  Florence,  and, 


SAVONAROLA.  165 

surrounded  by  an  immense  crowd,  and  in  the  gaze  of 
the  magistrates  of  the  city,  and  in  most  solemn  and  im- 
pressive spirit,  the  pile  was  fired  and  entirely  con- 
sumed. However  we  may  condemn  such  conduct, 
we  cannot  fail  to  recognize  the  almost  despotic  power 
wielded  by  the  monk  reformer. 

SAVONAROLA  WAS  A  STATESMAN,  NOT  A 
POLITICIAN. 

There  is  a  distinction  and  a  difference  between  the 
politician  and  the  statesman.  The  politician  is  full 
of  temporary  expedients ;  the  statesman  of  eternal 
principles.  The  politician  deems  himself  the  center 
of  the  system  of  government ;  the  statesman  regards 
himself  as  but  one  of  the  lights  revolving  round  the 
governmental  center.  The  politician  thinks  of  him- 
self ;  the  statesman  of  his  country.  The  politician 
feeds  upon  his  country ;  the  statesman  dies  for  it. 
The  politician  honors  the  government  by  serving  it ; 
the  statesman  is  honored  by  being  permitted  to  serve 
it.  The  politician  acts  for  the  present ;  the  statesman 
labors  for  the  future.  The  politician  travels  in  an 
ever-narrowing  orbit ;  the  statesman  moves  with  maj- 
esty of  step  around  a  pathway  ever  amplifying.  The 
politician  surveys  the  state  from  the  benches  and 
through  the  f nines  of  an  ale-honse ;  the  statesman 
climbs  the  watch-tower  of  serene,  truth-loving  philo- 
sophic contemplation,  whence  he  can  look  both  before 
and  after,  learning  from  the  past  how  best  to  steer  the 
vessel  of  the  state  through  the  unexplored  ocean  of 
the  far-reaching  future.  The  politician  is  inspired  by 


166         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

love  of  pelf ;  the  statesman  by  loyalty  to  principle. 
The  politician  is  impelled  by  convenience ;  the  states- 
man by  conscience.  The  politician  believes  all  men 
are  liars  ;  the  statesman  believes  he  can  find  good  in 
every  man.  The  politician  believes  in  chance ;  the 
statesman  believes  in  God.  The  politician  reaches  his 
end  by  crawling,  and  dust  is  the  serpent's  food  ;  the 
statesman  walks  with  eyes  gazing  beyond  the  stars, 
and  with  step  which  beats  time  to  the  very  music  of 
the  harps  of  God. 

Savonarola  was  a  statesman.  Into  the  civil,  the 
political  life  of  his  fellows  he  deemed  it  an  imper- 
ative duty  to  throw  himself;  indeed,  upon  the  down- 
fall of  the  Medicean  family  and  tyranny,  the  citizens 
naturally  turn  to  the  Friar  of  St.  Mark  as  to  the 
only  honest  and  capable  man  to  whom  might  be 
intrusted  the  helm  of  the  Republic.  He  undertook 
to  reorganize  the  state  and  restore  the  venerable  liber- 
ties of  the  commonwealth.  His  ideal  was  a  theocracy 
— "  a  city  of  God."  He  fancied  it  possible  to  be  a 
statesman  and  yet  a  godly  man.  He  believed  it  to  be 
the  divine  purpose  that  those  who  ruled  men  should 
fear  God.  He  cherished  the  conviction  that  truth 
could  underlie,  and  interlace,  and  engird,  and  give 
strength,  and  symmetry,  and  sanctity  to  the  govern- 
ment of  his  beloved  Florentines.  He  believed  it 
altogether  desirable  that  magistrates  should  spurn 
bribes;  and  hold  even  balances  and  office,  not  for 
monetary  aggrandizement  or  family  enrichment,  but 
for  the  liberty  and  life  of  the  state.  Perhaps  he  was 
mistaken ;  perhaps  he  was  only  another  of  many 


SAVONAROLA.  167 

visionaries  who  so  theorize ;  perhaps  he  was  before  his 
age,  as  others  of  his  class  have  been.  As  yet  the  history 
of  political  life  does  not  seem  to  have  made  much  ad- 
vance upon  the  facts  of  those  olden  days.  Men  then, 
as  now,  laughed  at  such  a  dream  ;  then,  as  now,  they 
left  religion  in  the  vestibule  of  their  halls  of  parlia- 
ment to  keep  company  with  their  umbrellas  and  their 
wet-weather  overalls. 

Seeing  that  I  am  not  myself  a  politician,  I  am 
scarce  able  to  say,  with  any  thing  like  authority, 
whether  or  no  Savonarola's  theories  are  correct.  As 
politics  have  been,  should  they  continue  so  to  be,  I 
should  not  care  to  take  an  active  part  in  them.  As 
a  minister  of  the  Gospel  I  think  it  is  not  advisable.  I 
should  not  like  to  "  stump  a  campaign  "  for  either  Whig 
or  Tory.  I  feel  persuaded  there  is  more  likelihood  of 
loss  than  gain  of  reputation  and  influence  in  such  a 
course  as  that  adopted  by  our  martyr  hero  Savonarola. 
Our  business  is,  as  I  take  it,  to  purify  political  life  in- 
directly, by  seeking  to  further  the  purification  of  the 
men  of  the  state.  Our  work  above  all  is  to  aid  men 
into  a  nobler  life  of  conscience  and  a  nobler  life  of 
soul.  Ours  is  to  aid  men  in  seeking  to  know  and 
feel  the  obligation  of  the  right,  and  in  seeking  to 
further  their  endeavors  after  the  love  which  sweetens 
life.  Let  me  then  influence  and  transform  men  from 
the  least  unto  the  greatest,  and  in  my  profession  I 
shall  have  done  no  mean  part  in  fitting  men  for  the 
honorable  calling  in  making  laws  and  administering 
them.  I  may,  in  the  most  solemn  sense,  mold  the 
Constitution,  secure  its  purity,  and  guard  it  from  all 


168  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

who  might  dare  to  violate  its  sacredness  or  annul  its 
sanction. 

Savonarola  felt  it  to  be  his  vocation  to  aid  directly 
in  the  affairs  of  government,  and  doubtless  the  state 
of  affairs  rendered  his  co-operation  imperatively  neces- 
sary. There  have  been  times  in  the  history  of  peoples 
when  the  men  whose  callings  marked  them  out  for 
governmental  work  proved  so  unequal  to  the  demand 
of  the  occasion  that  all  who  loved  order  and  life 
gladly  availed  themselves  of  help  from  any  honorable 
quarter,  and  welcomed  it — whether  from  the  palace, 
the  studio,  the  cobbler's  stool,  the  printer's  press,  the 
cloister  of  the  monk,  or  the  plow-shafts  of  the  farm- 
er. In  such  times  the  man  of  most  brain  power  and 
of  most  honest  heart,  of  clearest  thought  and  prompt- 
est will,  is  the  man  upon  whose  shoulders  will  be 
flung  the  robe  of  responsibility  ;  to  whose  hands  shall 
be  committed  the  banner  around  which  shall  cluster 
the  forces  of  freedom — the  lovers  of  law.  Such  a 
one  was  Savonarola. 

And  surely  his  was  no  unworthy  dream,  bred  in  the 
effete  brain  of  an  emaciated  ascetic,  but  one  altogether 
fair  to  look  upon,  and  fit  to  become  national.  He 
would  have  a  people  make  their  own  laws  and  choose 
their  own  rulers  ;  he  would  have  justice  clad  in  robes 
of  sanctity,  and  law  based  upon  honor,  veracity,  and 
impartiality.  He  would  have  every  citizen  the  de- 
fender and  the  exponent  of  liberty  and  love.  Industry 
should  be  held  imperative,  and  labor  deemed  noble. 
Life  should  be  girt  about  with  reverence,  and  home 
made  the  nursery  of  virtue.  Around  every  honest 


SAVONAROLA.  1G9 

calling  there  should  gather  the  sanctity  of  right,  and 
upon  every  institution  of  art,  of  science,  of  benevo- 
lence, there  should  rest  the  benediction  of  Heaven. 
Unity  should  bestow  strength  to  toil,  to  suffer,  to  bear 
assault,  and  to  repel  invasion ;  and  impartial  rule 
should  give  scope  for  the  healthful  growth  of  indi- 
viduality and  personality.  Religion  should  promote 
every  enactment,  circulate  through  the  branches  of 
commerce,  and  bear  fruit  in  generosity,  gratitude, 
and  humility.  Feebleness  shall  be  maintained  by 
strength,  indigence  succored  by  wealth,  suffering  sol- 
aced by  sympathy,  widowhood  shall  command  re- 
spect, innocence  win  protection,  and  age  secure 
reverence.  Labor  shall  be  worship,  and  wor- 
ship noblest  life.  The  fondest  hopes,  the  fairest 
visions  of  seer  and  saint  shall  greet  the  gaze  of 
wondering  observers ;  around  all  the  invisible  but  in- 
vulnerable shield  shall  be  suspended,  and  upon  all  the 
glory  there  shall  be  a  defense.  This  was  the  monk's 
ideal ;  for  this  he  breathed,  for  this  he  sat  at  council 
boards  and  organized  the  magistracy. 

But  all  this  implies  a  material  fitted  to  the  plastic 
hand  of  the  statesman.  This  is  beautiful  in  the 
politician's  study.  It  is  a  delectable  idea,  One's 
heart  heaves  high  while  such  possibilities  hover  round 
the  imagination.  But,  will  it  work?  This  is  the 
question.  Such  a  splendid  scheme  demands  men — 
not  shams,  but  MEN.  It  demands  intelligence ;  it 
needs  conscience ;  it  pre-supposes  unselfishness.  It 
needs  not  a  few  men,  but  men  in  the  multitude — in 
the  mass.  Given  such  rnateml,  to  fashion  from  them 


170          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  Christian  nation  is  the  practical  problem.  Hitherto 
we  have  not  had  the  type  of  manhood  necessary  to 
such  an  edifice  of  political  life ;  and,  therefore,  in- 
stability, rottenness,  office-hunting,  Tammany  rings, 
etc.,  etc.,  etc.  Nevertheless,  from  such  an  ideal  of 
government  good  abundantly  may  emanate  ;  for,  when 
sincerely  held  by  men  of  broad  and  vigorous  souls, 
efforts  corresponding  will  surely  be  put  forth  to  aid 
in  manufacturing  the  man-material  of  which  to  erect 
Christian,  freedom-loving,  law-abiding  government. 
Education  shall  become  every  man's  right  and  within 
every  man's  reach.  This^is  good.  Freedom  of  dis- 
cussion shall  be  proclaimed,  even  thus  leading  to  de- 
bate, argument,  investigation,  and  ventilation  of 
topics.  This  is  good.  Liberty  of  the  press  shall  be 
pronounced  here,  and  thus  the  most  thoughtful,  the 
most  cultivated,  the  most  experienced  of  the  age  shall 
aid  in  guiding  conduct,  in  educating  opinion,  in  shap- 
ing belief.  This  is  good.  The  pulpit  shall  be  held 
in  esteem,  when  worthy  of  it,  and  thus  shall  the 
moral  nature  of  man  be  purified,  the  moral  tone  of 
man  be  elevated,  the  moral  life  of  men  become  rec- 
tified ;  and  this  is  good. 

So  that  it  is,  after  all,  well  that  such  an  ideal  as 
Savonarola's  exists.  A  nation,  though  not  altogether 
fitted  for  it,  is  yet  less  unfitted,  and  is,  as  the  ages  roll, 
increasing  in  positive  meetness  for  the  inheritance  of 
civil  and  religious  freedom,  such  as  I  rejoice  to  know 
is  the  pride  and  glory  of  the  land  in  which  I  have 
made  my  home. 

Threefold   forces  of  ^foes,  as  a  matter  of  course, 


SAVONAROLA.  171 

thronged  upon  him,  gradually,  resolutely :  those 
wounded  by  his  denunciations  of  immorality,  those 
checkmated  by  his  political  honesty,  those  aggrieved 
by  his  exposure  of  the  faithlessness  and  foulness  of 
the  head  and  chieftains  of  the  Church — these  last  the 
most  virulent  and  sanguinary  of  the  three,  and  prompt 
to  avail  themselves  of  the  passions  and  violence  of 
the  former  two. 

Alexander  VI.  has  his  eye  upon  this  disturber  of 
peace,  and  will  soon  have  his  mailed  hand  upon  this 
emissary  of  the  righteous  God.  Reports  of  Savon- 
arola's sermons  are  transmitted  to  him  for  inspection. 
How  his  blood  must  leap  and  rush  as  he  reads  or 
hears  read  the  terrible  invectives  of  the  monk  orator ! 
With  what  ill-concealed  rage  he  meditates  the  pur- 
pose which  shall  strike  him  down !  Anathema  is 
threatened  if  the  magistrates  permit  him  to  again  oc- 
cupy the  cathedral.  Should  this  fail,  he  shall  be 
placed  under  interdict. 

The  reformer  retires,  but,  after  a  brief  period,  ap- 
pears once  more  unhindered,  unmolested,  only  to  hurl 
newly  forged  bolts  and  reiterate  with  heightened 
fervor  the  charges  preferred  against  the  vicar  of 
Christ  and  his  base  minions. 

Savonarola  calls  for  a  council  of  the  nations  and 
Church,  that  reformation  may  be  demanded  and  in- 
augurated. But  this  only  arouses  for  the  final  conflict 
the  haughty  spirit  of  the  pontiff. 

Steps  are  taken  to  entrap  Savonarola  into  a  trial  by 
ordeal  of  his  credentials  as  a  heaven-commissioned 
agent.  The  day,  the  place,  have  been  selected.  Im- 


172         GUAKD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

mense  crowds  throng  the  square.  Magistrates  preside 
over  the  eventful  scene.  The  friends  of  the  rival 
friars  gather  round  their  heroes.  The  piles  of  com- 
bustibles have  been  heaped  ;  between  them  a  narrow 
pathway  to  be  trodden  by  the  Franciscan  and  Domin- 
ican while  in  fury  of  conflagration.  He  who  escapes 
unharmed  is  thereby  pronounced  the  true  and  faith- 
ful emissary  of  the  Most  High.  And  now  the  Italian 
throng  heaves  deep  and  high  with  excitement ;  con- 
tending passions  struggle  for  ascendency  ;  Savonarola 
will  not  go  through  the  fire  but  with  "  the  Host" 
This  is  deemed  sacrilege  by  his  opponents.  A  debate 
ensues ;  time  advances ;  the  day  is  waning  ;  signs 
of  a  thunder-storm  are  hailed  by  not  a  few  of  the 
more  influential  of  the  group.  The  rain  descends 
in  torrents.  The  crowd  breaks  up — disappointed, 
enraged. 

A  reaction  sets  in  against  our  hero  ;  it  is  seized  by 
his  foes.  With  his  monks  Savonarola  retires  to  his 
convent  and  to  his  pulpit  to  rehearse  the  doings  of 
the  day  and  explain  his  conduct.  Outside  disturb- 
ances have  occurred  between  citizens,  his  friends  and 
foes.  An  attack  is  made  upon  the  convent,  but  to  be 
resisted  by  armed  and  brave  men.  The  walls  are 
scaled ;  the  gates  stormed ;  conflict  follows ;  blood 
flows.  The  magistrates  interfere.  Savonarola  and 
one  of  his  chief  friends  are  ceized,  and  conveyed  by 
order  of  the  magistrates  to  prison.  Their  lives  are  in 
peril  as  they  pass  through  the  streets. 

Once  in  prison,  Alexander's  spies  transmit  the  in- 
telligence. Speedy  work  is  made ;  arid  upon  the 


SAVONAROLA.  173 

charges  of  deceiving  the  people  as  a  prophet,  of  hav- 
ing vilified  the  pope  and  denied  his  sanctity  and  his 
sovereignty,  our  martyr  is  arraigned  before  a  com- 
mission appointed  by  his  holiness. 

He  is  examined,  but  denies  "the  charges  preferred. 
Then  he  is  subjected  to  the  torture.  His  emaciated, 
nervous,  frail  body  is  roped,  lifted  by  pulleys  until  it 
touches  the  ceiling — then  let  go,  to  descend  with 
speed,  and  by  the  shock  rend  his  framework,  shatter 
his  joints.  Unconsciousness  follows.  He  is  released 
and  conveyed  to  a  couch.  As  he  regains  conscious- 
ness they  ply  him  with  questions,  and  extract  from  him 
confession  and  acknowledgment  of  the  charges  pre- 
ferred against  him.  These  are  carefully  taken  down, 
read  to  him  when  restored  to  full  strength  of  mind, 
but  indignantly  denied  by  him  as  his  honest  state- 
ments. 

Again  is  he  hoisted,  strained,  let  fall,  dislocated, 
shattered  ;  again  released  and  removed ;  again  sub- 
jected to  questions  ;  again  yields  to  the  inquisitor,  but 
to  once  more  reassert  the  falsity  thereof  when  restored 
to  his  wonted  balance  and  strength  of  mind. 

Rut  it  is  enough  for  his  foes.     The  papers  are  for- 
warded to  the  pope ;  returned  with  the  decree  that 
he  be  handed  over  to  the  care  of  the  magistrates,  and  , 
by  these  doomed  to  death  by  burning. 

And  yonder,  in  the  city  of  his  fond  affection,  in 
the  square  where  pyramids  of  paintings,  statuettes, 
jewels,  articles  of  virtu  had,  in  his  presence,  been 
consumed  by  the  people  who  oft  had  yielded  to  his 
mighty  appeals,  and  responded  by  tears  and  sighs  and 


174         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

reformations  to  his  impassioned  oratory,  the  deed  is 
done.  The  fagots  are  heaped  and  kindled ;  the 
sacred  body  of  Italy's  best  son  feeds  the  flames  into 
fiercer  fury,  and  in  a  chariot  of  fire  the  mighty  spirit 
sweeps  home  to  join  the  noble  army  of  martyrs. 

So  perished  one  of  the  seed-royal  of  this  earth  ; 
another  of  the  "  goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets ; " 
of  stainless  morals,  of  most  unselfish  life ;  born  out 
of  due  time,  perhaps ;  leaving  to  his  countrymen  a 
rich  legacy  in  the  memory  of  a  life  consecrated  to  the 
holiest  ends. 

Alas !  so  have  the  ages  too  often  treated  their  truest 
benefactors.  Such  men,  like  their  Master,  full  oft 
come  unto  their  own,  bearing  with  them  untold  wealth 
of  benefaction — only  to  be  for  a  time  objects  of  won- 
der and  admiration,  then  objects  of  contumely  and 
outlawry,  and  finally  victims  of  the  gibbet  and  the 
stake. 

Heroes  have  ever  had  to  front  opposition  ;  to  bear 
up  against  opprobrium  ;  to  win  their  way  with  fearful 
death  in  prospect ;  and  for  their  reward  clasp  upon 
their  brows  a  crown  of  thorns,  or  bind  around  them 
the  robe  of  flame  as  the  mantle  of  their  knighthood 
and  the  symbol  of  their  chivalry  as  valiant  for  the 
truth.  Goodness  on  this  planet  hath  ever  had  a  life 
of  struggle  and  of  conflict.  To  preserve,  to  perpetu- 
ate, its  existence,  it  has  had  to  wrestle  ofttimes  against 
dreadful  odds — ofttimes  alone  and  unbefriended ; 
sometimes  forsaken  and  betrayed  ;  and  yet,  though 
crushed  to  earth,  still  juvenescent,  undaunted,  and 
undespairing — bearing  on  its  heart  the  prophetic 


SAVONAKOLA.  175 

assurance  of  ultimate  and  universal  and  eternal 
victory. 

We  are  made  to  be  attracted  by  the  Sublime  as 
well  as  by  the  Beautiful  in  human  character  as  cer- 
tainly as  in  natural  scenery.  There  is  no  sublimity 
comparable  with  the  morally  sublime.  There  is  no 
beauty  like  the  u  beauty  of  holiness."  The  mount- 
ain hoary  with  the  rush  of  centuries  may  not  rival 
the  man  strong  in  integrity,  of  noble  purpose,  and 
generous  even  to  death  in  self-sacrin'cing  devotion  to 
the  weal  of  his  nation  and  his  race,  in  the  elements 
of  grandeur  which  compose  his  character  and  life. 
Such  is  the  surpassing  order  of  the  spiritual  and  the 
moral  that  we  seek  to  set  it  forth  by  selecting  from 
material  things  the  outward  and  visible  symbols  of 
which  the  spiritual  is  the  absolute  substance. 

The  sentiment  called  the  sublime  is  copiously  pro- 
vided for  in  the  domains  of  matter.  The  physical 
universe  is  so  fashioned  as  to  evoke  the  emotion  of  the 
human  spirit.  The  whirlwind  in  its  inarch  of  devas- 
tation ;  the  sea  in  its  amplitude  and  mysteries ;  the 
midnight  heavens  with  their  pomp  of  worlds  and  their 
dark  depths  of  glowing,  moving,  ordered  squadrons ; 
the  forests  freighted  with  the  brooding  mysteries  of 
monster,  of  peril,  and  of  age  ;  the  ancient  hills  riven 
by  thunder-shafts,  embrowned  by  winds  and  rains, 
mantled  with  snow,  helmeted  with  ice,  unchanged 
amid  the  revolutions  of  empires  that  long  have  flour- 
ished beneath  their  sheltering  shadow — these  all  exist 
as  nourishment  for  the  spirit's  appetitive  longing  after 
sublimitv. 


176          GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AXD  ADDRESSES. 

But  these  physical  objects  fail  in  reaching  the  ut- 
most depths  of  the  human  spirit.  The  sublime  as  it 
appears  in  the  life  of  a  person,  as  it  fronts  us  in  the 
character  of  a  true  man,  moves  us  with  more  of  elec- 
tric throb,  and  binds  us  with  a  spell  more  necromantic. 

A  life  sworn  to  duty  ;  given  up  to  truth  ;  conse- 
crated upon  the  altar  of  humanity  ;  as  tender  as  'tis 
brave  ;  as  gentle  as  'tis  strong  ;  as  beautiful  as  'tis 
stern ;  inspired  by  a  passion  which  pervades  it  with 
unquenchable  purpose,  binds  it  into  a  harmonious 
unity,  impels  it  with  resistless  energy  ;  as  strong  in 
suffering  as  in  toil  ;  as  equipoised  in  success  as  in- 
vincible amid  disaster  ;  true  when  alone  au  when  sur- 
rounded by  myriads ;  unseduced  by  love  of  power 
and  unenfeebled  by  flattery ;  keen  to  appreciate 
scorn,  yet  inflexible  amid  the  bitterest  peltmgs  of  the 
pitiless  tempest  of  contumely,  invective,  and  contempt 
— this  is  the  sublimity  of  the  sublime,  winning  at 
once  the  admiration  of  men,  the  wonder  of  angels, 
and  the  "  well  done  "  of  God  ! 

It  matters  not  to  what  portion  of  the  race  such  a 
one  belongs.  It  matters  not  what  skin  robes  his  skel- 
eton ;  what  blood  leaps  along  his  veins ;  what  suns 
have  bronzed  his  brow ;  what  language  voices  his 
thought.  It  matters  not  in  what  age  he  lived,  neither 
how  many  nor  how  deep  and  wide  the  great  gulfs  di- 
viding him  from  us  and  from  other  generations ;  de- 
fiant of  all  such  limitations  the  influence  of  such  a 
man's  character  diffuses  itself  like  the  circumambient 
air ;  radiates  itself  like  the  impartial  sunlight ;  and 
darts  its  power  through  time  like  the  attraction  which 


SAVONAROLA.  177 

travels  through  sunless  leagues  of  space  and  binds  the 
star  upon  the  frontier  of  creation  into  brotherhood 
with  the  meteor  most  proximate  to  the  center  and  the 
fount  from  whence  the  mysterious  potency  emanates. 

So  have  we  thought  while  meditating  upon  the  life 
and  character  of  Savonarola. 

He  was  an  Italian ;  we  are  of  Anglo-Saxon  blood. 
He  was  a  Catholic  ;  we  are  Protestants.  He  was  a 
monk ;  we  are  fathers  and  citizens  of  the  world.  He 
lived  and  wrought  in  the  fifteenth  century  ;  we  have 
our  existence  in  the  nineteenth.  Five  hundred  years 
intervene  since  he  began  his  brilliant  but,  alas,  too 
brief  career. 

Nevertheless,  the  man  "  being  dead  yet  speaketh ; " 
speaks  with  an  eloquence  as  rich,  and  a  persuasiveness 
as  sovereign  as  to  those  who  gave  to  his  appeals  the 
tribute  of  their  tears,  to  his  heroism  the  homage  of 
their  hearts,  and  to  his  patriotism  the  acclaim  of  their 
unspeakable  gratitude  and  undying  veneration. 

Our  martyr's  spirit  never  ceased  to  live  amid  the 
Tuscan  people ;  soon  they  repented  of  their  folly  and 
their  ingratitude.  The  memory  of  their  patriot  monk 
waxed  in  sacredness  as  years  of  tyranny  and  wrong 
rolled  over  the  city,  of  his  fabulous  eloquence  and 
life-long  service.  Amid  the  deepest  degradation  the 
name  of  Savonarola  fanned  the  slumbering  embers  of 
their  hope  of  emancipation  from  ducal  despotism.  A 
paper  was  printed  bearing  his  name ;  and  not  infre- 
quently the  fainting  hearts  of  Florence  cheered  each 
other  by  repeating  their  brave  friend's  oft-reiterated 
words :  "  Italy  shall  be  renewed ! " 


178          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

If  it  be,  indeed,  permitted  the  holy  ones  from 
earth  to  witness  the  march  of  this  world's  events  and 
to  know  the  progress  of  plans  whose  initial  steps  they 
tended  and  protected,  to  gaze  upon  the  harvests 
whose  seed  they  sowed  and  watered  with  tears  of 
blood  ;  and  if,  from  such  source,  they  draw  any  of 
their  fullness  of  joy,  who  dare  describe  the  rapture  he 
must  feel  who  can  look  down  on  his  beloved  "Italy,  a 
united  kingdom?  Her  petty  princedoms  have  van- 
ished ;  her  endless  strifes  closed ;  Venice  and  Genoa, 
Florence  and  Naples,  revolving  in  planetary  order 
and  increasing  luster  around  Rome,  the  center  and 
the  capital  of  the  chosen  ruler  of  the  loveliest  of  the 
lands  washed  by  the  classic  waters  of  the  tideless 
Mediterranean.  Italy  free  from  Alp  to  Apennine, 
from  Turin  to  Calabria  ;  free  in  her  press,  free  in  her 
constitution,  free  in  her  worship !  No  dungeon  en- 
tombing a  captive  for  conscience  or  his  country's 
sake !  Education  building  schools  and  gathering 
thousands  of  the  dark-eyed  descendants  of  artists, 
poets,  statesmen,  and  orators,  who  filled  the  world 
with  their  fame  !  Commerce  again  crowding  her  ports 
and  loading  her  quays.  Industry  kindling  factory 
fires,  and  steam  traversing  her  valleys !  An  open 
Bible  sold  in  all  the  streets  and  the  Gospel  again 
preached  without  molestation  in  Rome !  What  in  all 
do  we — does  he — behold  but  "  Italy  renewed  ; "  her 
sepulcher  empty ;  her  grave-clothes  removed ;  fire  in 
her  eye ;  life  in  her  footstep ;  nobleness  in  her  gait ; 
before  her  hope,  bright-visioned ;  above  her,  God . 
and  around  her  his  everlasting  arms !  She  takes  her 


SAVONAROLA.  179 

place  in  the  foremost  ranks  of  the  progressive  nations 
of  the  world,  and  gives  pledge  of  a  future  as  bright 
and  as  serene  as  her  past  has  been  troubled^  cloud- 
piled,  and  dark ;  fulfilling  the  anticipations  and  as- 
surances of  one  of  her  most  ardent  lovers  as  expressed 
in  his  "  Song  of  Italy : " 

For  times  and  wars  shall  change,  kingdoms  and  creeds, 

And  dreams  of  men,  and  deeds ; 
Eartli  shall  grow  gray  with  all  her  golden  things, 

Pale  peoples  and  hoar  kings ; 
But  though  her  thrones  and  towers  of  nations  fall, 

Deatli  hath  not  part  in  all : 
In  the  ;iir,  nor  in  the  imperishable  sea, 

Nor  heaven,  nor  truth,  nor  thee. 
Yea,  let  all  scepter-stricken  nations  lie, 

But  live  tliou  though  they  die  ; 
Let  their  flags  fade  as  flowers  that  storm  can  mar, 

But  thine  be  like  a  star ; 
Let  PJngland's,  if  it  float  not  for  men  free, 

Fall,  and  forget  the  sea ; 
Let  France's,  if  it  shadow  a  hateful  head, 

Drop  as  a  leaf  drops  dead  ; 
Thine  let  what  storm  soever  smite  the  rest 

Smite  as  it  seems  him  best : 
Thine  let  the  wind  that  can,  by  sea  or  land, 

Wrest  from  thy  banner-hand. 
Die  they  in  whom  dies  freedom,  die  and  cease; 

Though  the  world  weep  for  these, 
Live  thou,  and  love  and  lift  when  these  lie  dead 

The  green  and  white  and  red. 

13 


180         GUAKD'S  LECTUBES  A.ND  ADDRESSES. 


^VI- 
ST. PATRICK,  THE  APOSTLE  OF  THE  IRISH.* 

fTlHE  bare  mention  of  sucli  a  theme  generally  ex- 
_L  cites  a  smile,  sometimes  even  a  laugh,  and  not 
seldom  an  expression  of  supercilious  contempt.  And 
this  is  not  the  less  probable  when  a  Protestant  pro- 
poses to  treat  it. 

Any  thing  Irish  is  likely  to  produce  such  results. 
Yet  just  now  Ireland  and  Irish  matters  have  quite 
another  side  than  that  which  elicits  merriment  or 
creates  amusement.  They  are  not  in  an  exceedingly 
merry  mood  just  now  over  yonder  on  the  Green 
Isle ;  and  other  feelings  than  those  most  pleasant 
have  been  occasioned  by  Irishmen  even  in  our  own 
State  and  city,  f 

It  is  not  a  little  remarkable  that  there  should  be 
such  a  power  to  call  forth  the  lighter  sentiments  of 
our  nature  by  the  mere  name  of  Ireland  or  of  St. 
Patrick.  Some  may  be  disposed  to  attribute  this  to 
a  lack  of  earnestness,  or  of  depth  of  purpose,  or  of 
practical,  steady,  and  successful  conduct,  peculiar  to 
the  people.  Others  might  attribute  this  feeling  to 
the  levity  and  recklessness,  the  good-nature  and  love 

*  A  lecture  written  and  delivered  but  twice — in  March,  1880,  in 
San  Francisco,  and  Oakland,  California — a  few  weeks  previous  to  the 
author's  return  to  Baltimore. 

f  San  Francisco,  CaL 


SAINT  PATRICK.  181 

of  ease,  the  ready  wit  and  buoyancy  of  spirit  slightly 
characteristic  of  the  nation.  I  shall  not  stop  to  attempt 
an  explanation.  Smile  as  you  may,  or  sneer  as"  you 
choose,  it  abides  an  indubitable  fact  that  there  is  such 
a  place  as  Ireland,  and  a  people,  or  race,  or  remnant 
of  race,  called  Irish. 

I  beg  in  the  most  solemn  manner  to  assure  you, 
gentlemen,  that  the  island  yet  gems  the  western 
ocean's  bosom,  and  the  people  were  never  more  cer- 
tain of  recognition,  and  iiever  more  resolved  to  live 
and  make  themselves  felt  than  to-day.  They  are  a 
force  in  the  Old  World,  and,  for  good  or  evil,  in  the 
New.  They  challenge  attention  no  less  emphatically 
in  the  southern  hemisphere  than  they  have,  for  cent- 
uries, in  the  northern.  And  lest  they  should  pass 
onward  unnoticed  by  reason  of  their  apparent  hap- 
piness, they  have  no  difficulty  and  no  hesitancy  in 
taking  the  world  by  the  ear,  and  compelling  it  to  halt 
and  listen  to  their  tale  of  suffering  and  the  wail  of 
their  famine-stricken  populations. 

Few  peoples  have  had  a  larger  share  of  misfortune ; 
by  whom  induced,  it  is  not  my  purpose  to  say.  The 
annals  of  Ireland  are  among  the  most  dreary,  dismal, 
and  depressing  of  the  man}'  penned  by  the  muse  of 
history.  I  speak  this  with  all  deliberation.  The 
people  may  be  light-hearted  ;  but  no  student  of  their 
melancholy  past  can  rise  from  perusal  of  their  history, 
light-hearted.  There  is  only  one  other  people  of 
whom  I  could  say  this  with  any  thing  like  equal 
truthfulness :  that  other  people,  the  Jewish  race — a 
people  great  in  their  heroes,  great  in  their  poets, 


182         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

great  in  their  legislators,  great  in  their  philosophers, 
great  in  their  patriotism,  great  in  their  artists,  great 
in  their  persistent  and  invincible  vitality,  but  greatest 
in  the  wrongs  inflicted  and  the  woes  unvialed  upon 
them  by  the  rude  and  ruffian  hands  of  secular  priests 
and  sanguinary  princes. 

The  Irish  race  is  very  old.  It  is  proud  of  its  age. 
All  great  families  and  peoples  are.  There  is  no  rea- 
son to  doubt  the  assertion  that  it  is  as  old  as  Noah's 
flood.  The  Irish  were  in  the  ark.  They  were  in 
Paradise.  As  Levi  in  the  loins  of  Abraham,  so  were 
the  Irish  in  the  loins  of  Adam. 

It  is  a  respectable  antiquity.  They  came  from  the 
East.  Their  language  proves  tl^em  one  in  original 
stock  with  those  who  produced  the  "  Vedas  "  of  India, 
the  "  Zendavesta  "  of  Zoroaster,  the  "  Iliad  "  of  Homer, 
the  "  Orations  "  of  Cicero.  Max  Muller  has  proven 
this  fact  with  unusual  copiousness  of  argument. 

It  is  not  improbable  that  the  Milesian  Irish  landed 
in  Ireland  from  Spain;  whither  the  Phenicians  of 
Tyre  and  Carthage,  in  ages  most  remote,  had  migrated 
to  establish  commerce  and  colonies.  Language  ren- 
ders this  probable ;  religion  proclaims  it  probable ; 
arts  and  habits  proclaim  it  probable.  Who  were  ab- 
solutely the  first  to  occupy  the  soil  of  Ireland  the 
most  calm-headed  and  competent  authorities  upon  such 
matters  are  unable  to  say. 

But,  though  it  may  be  an  utter  impossibility  to  de- 
cide when  or  how  they  reached  Ireland,  or  whether 
they  sprang  from  the  soil  and  were  as  indigenous  to 
it  as  the  Greeks  believed  respecting  themselves,  Ire- 


SAINT   PATRICK.  183 

land  and  the  Irish,  I  repeat,  are  today  facts  of  history 
— most  incontrovertible,  stern,  stubborn  facts.  For 
evil  or  for  good — as  a  blessing  or  as  a  curse — Ireland 
lives,  moves,  and  has  her  being  in  this  the  nineteenth 
century  of  the  Christian  era. 

Of  small  dimensions  when  compared  with  Texas  or 
the  Territory  of  Dakota,  she  takes  her  place  side  by 
side  with  states  not  larger  in  her  power  to  influence 
the  world.  The  peoples  who  have  most  modified  the 
history  of  humanity  have  lived,  like  Irishmen,  upon 
comparatively  circumscribed  territories. 

Egypt,  first  in  architecture  and  astronomic  science, 
is  of  but  insignificant  extent ;  the  valley  of  the  Nile 
her  home. 

Israel,  the  greatest  of  peoples  in  power  over  the 
conscience  and  heart  of  mankind — whether  as  Jew  or 
as  Christian — occupied  but  a  petty  portion  of  the  sur- 
face of  our  globe. 

Greece,  first  in  art,  great  in  philosophy,  peerless  in 
eloquence — what  a  contemptible  plot  was  given  to 
her! 

Rome,  the  mistress  of  the  world,  greatest  of  law- 
givers, greatest  of  road-builders,  greatest  of  organiz- 
ers, and  second  but  to  Greece  in  the  majesty  of  her 
language  and  the  splendid  oratory  of  her  sons,  grew 
up  to  world-wide  might  and  empire  upon  a  scanty 
peninsula. 

So  that,  of  those  who  most  educated  the  intellect 
of  man,  best  trained  the  will  of  man,  and  with  great- 
est benefit  controlled  the  moral  nature  of  man,  it  must 
be  confessed  that  the  bounds  of  their  habitation  were 


184         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

extremely  narrow  indeed.  Therefore,  upon  the  score 
of  size  of  local  habitation,  the  Irish  may  not  be  despised. 

Nor  is  Ireland  deficient  in  sea-board  ;  for  she  is  an 
island.  The  harbors  are  numerous  and  they  are  safe. 
Lough  Foyle,  Carrickfergus  and  Carlingford  Bays, 
the  Cove  of  Cork,  the  Shannon  from  the  sea  to  Lim- 
erick, Clew  Bay — as  noble  as  that  of  Naples — with 
others,  testify  to  the  facilities  for  commerce  created  in 
the  coast-line  of  the  island.  Nor  is  she  deficient  in 
water  within  her  coasts.  There  is  no  dearth  of  stream 
or  river.  There  is  no  lack  of  fountain  or  of  lake. 
And  as  to  rain — well,  in  no  spot  might  hydropathic 
establishments  be  erected  with  less  expense  or  incon- 
venience. Eight  months  of  the  year  there  is  rain. 

Greener  grass  grows  not  than  in  her  valleys.  Fair- 
er flowers  bloom  not  than  in  her  hedgerows.  Fatter 
hogs  wallow  not  than  in  her  ditches ;  butter  more 
delicious  than  her  Cork  brand  ;  nor  potatoes  more 
floury  than  those  dug  from  her  fields.  And  as  for 
the  mountain  dew  that  smiles  at  the  gauger  as  it 
trickles  in  mellow  drops  along  the  convolutions  of 
the  worm  of  the  still,  far  up  in  the  glen,  where  only 
the  moonbeams  see  and  the  fairies  hear  it — as  for  that 
you  must  taste  it  for  yourselves. 

The  inhabitants  of  Ireland  to-day  are  not  at  all  a 
homogeneous  people.  They  are  quite  as  heterogene- 
ous as  the  English,  whose  greatness  has  been  by  some 
largely  attributed  to  the  varieties  of  the  blood  min- 
gling in  the  modern  Englishman's  veins. 

First  came  the  Milesian  Irish,  the  uncertainty  of 
whose  origin  I  have  already  noticed. 


SAINT  PATRICK.  185 

Then  there  were  the  Norsemen — the  Danes — the 
daring,  fearless  pirates  of  the  age  in  which  they  be- 
gan their  series  of  descents  upon  the  Irish  coasts. 
Their  career  was  one  of  blood,  pillage,  massacre. 
They  burned  monasteries;  they  pillaged  churches; 
they  ravished  women ;  they  slaughtered  young  and 
old  with  relentless,  though  oft-opposed,  violence.  Yet 
they  were  never  completely  expelled  from  the  land. 
Though  at  Clontarf,  near  Dublin,  one  of  the  most 
brilliant  of  battles  was  fought,  and  one  of  the  bravest 
of  monarchs  fell — Brian  Boroihme — still,  when  the 
Normans  landed,  they  found  Danes  settled  in  Dublin, 
Wexford,  Waterford,  and  associated  by  marriage  with 
the  native  princes  and  peoples,  as  though  they  had 
made  up  their  former  feuds. 

Next  came  the  Anglo-Normans,  who  began  to 
conquer  and  to  win  their  way  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
II.,  and  from  whom  descended  the  Fitzgeralds,  the  De 
Lacys,  the  Barrys,  the  De  Burghs;  who  finally  so 
fell  in  love  with  Ireland  and  Irish  genius  and  Irish 
manners  and  Irish  girls  that,  losing  their  love  for 
England,  they  positively  became,  in  hatred  thereto, 
"  more  Irish  than  the  Irish." 

There  are  the  Scotch,  planted  in  the  North  of  Ire- 
land by  Elizabeth  and  James  I.,  from  whom  de- 
scended not  a  few  of  the  men  most  brave  in  the 
American  Revolutionary  struggle  ;  most  sagacious  in 
the  formation  of  the  new  Republic ;  and,  since  then, 
most  successful  in  the  commercial  life  of  the  great 
mercantile  centers  of  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Bal- 
timore, and  Chicago. 


186         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

There  are  the  descendants  of  the  soldiers  who 
fought  with  Cromwell,  and  were  rewarded  by  gifts 
of  confiscated  estates  and  farms — Puritans  of  the 
Puritans. 

There  are  the  Huguenots,  compelled  to  leave  their 
lovely  France  by  the  bigoted  Louis  XIV.,  and  from 
whom  have  sprung  some  of  the  ablest  judges  and 
most  eloquent  divines. 

There  are  the  Germans  of  Limerick  and  Tip- 
perary  and  Kerry,  who,  flying  for  conscience'  sake 
from  the  Rhine,  found,  under  Queen  Anne's  govern- 
ment, protection  and  farms  on  the  banks  of  the 
Shannon. 

I  do  not  think  I  ever  closed  a  volume  with  sadder 
heart  than  when  I  laid  down  the  History  of  Ireland. 
It  is  a  dreary  and  a  desolate  record.  It  is  the  story  of 
a  conquered  people.  It  is  a  tale  of  woe,  of  strife,  of 
fighting  with  foes  from  without  and  foes  from  within. 
I  could  not  fail  to  perceive  that  the  bitterest  enemies 
of  Ireland  were  those  of  her  own  household.  I  could 
not  fail  to  see  that  their  wretched  system  of  provincial 
kingships  entailed  naught  but  feebleness,  and  gen- 
erated naught  but  envy,  border  war,  incessant  rivalries, 
and  interminable  feuds.  Unity  was  but  a  name ;  by 
no  means  a  reality.  How  could  there  be  other  than 
perpetual  possibilities  of  antagonism,  when  an  island 
of  such  dimensions  owned  the  sovereignty  of  at  least 
four  monarchs  ?  How  could  there  be  other  than  im- 
intermitting  heart-burnings  among  a  people  by  whom 
provision  must  be  made  for  the  princely  sons  and 
daughters  of  these  four  monarchs  ? 


SAINT  PATRICK.  1ST 

The  natural  condition  of  society  was  war.  The 
very,  inability  to  agree  among  themselves  to-day,  in 
our  city,  characteristic  of  the  Irish  political  clubs,  is 
a  sure  and  certain  proof  of  the  lineage  of  their  mem- 
bership. Ireland  lias  always  enjoyed  a  good  fight. 
It  is  her  life — her  meat  and  her  drink.  In  an  atmos- 
phere surcharged  with  elements  of  commotion  she 
Jives,  moves,  and  has  her  being. 

It  is  either  a  fight  between  physical-force  and  moral- 
force  men ;  or  between  Home  Rulers  and  Anti-Home 
Rulers ;  or  between  the  Protestant  Church  and  the 
Roman  Church ;  or  between  Orangemen  and  Ribbon- 
meii ;  or  between  tenants  and  landlords ;  or  between 
followers  of  James  the  Second  and  followers  of  Wil- 
liam the  Third  ;  or  between  the  Irish  outside  the  Pale 
and  the  English  inside  the  Pale ;  or  the  house  of  Des- 
mond against  the  house  of  Thomond ;  or  the  house  of 
O'Neill  against  the  house  of  O'Rourke ;  or  the  Irish 
against  the  Danes ;  or  the  King  of  Munster  against 
the  King  of  Ulster. 

The  annals  are  filled  with  tales  of  such  petty  and 
pigmy  conflicts.  One  could  almost  come  to  believe 
that  some  dread,  mysterious,  and  most  cruel  fate  pre- 
sided at  the  birth  of  a  people  whose  history  is  such  an 
unbroken  series  of  disaster  and  defeat,  suicidal  strife 
and  abortive  effort.  I  have  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  best  thing  left  an  Irishman  who  loves  liia 
birthplace  is — to  leave  it. 

Sadness  is  met  with  in  everything  Irish — -purely 
Irish :  in  the  deserted  village ;  in  the  mud-wall  cabin ;  in 
the  miserable  potato  plot ;  in  the  half-naked  children ; 


188          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

in  the  very  songs  chanted  and  in  the  minor-key  music 
so  often  set  to  them ;  in  the  broken  bridges  of  their  tor- 
rent streams ;  alM,  sadder  still,  in  the  sunken-arched 
type  of  nose,  characteristic  of  the  Irish  face ;  every- 
where appealing,  to  whatever  of  pity  and  sentiment 
exist  in  a  tourist's  heart.  In  the  grim  shadows  of  the 
past  the  people  sit — a  crownless  and  broken-stringed 
harp,  the  fitting  symbol  of  the  abomination  of  desola- 
tion to  which  this  race  has  been  doomed. 

Since  the  Eeformation  the  lot  of  Ireland  has  been 
one  of  woe.  Ireland  never  accepted  the  Reformation. 
It  was  the  religion  of  a  foreign  master,  and  this  in- 
tensified her  antagonism  to  it.  Her  religion  added 
fuel  to  the  fires  of  her  hate  of  England.  Her  love 
for  the  pope  was  ever  superior  to  her  regard  for  the 
English  monarch.  And,  as  the  Irish  rebel  was  gen- 
erally an  Irish  Romanist,  when  punished  for  his  re- 
bellion he  could  not  persuade  himself  to  believe  that 
he  was  not  punished  for  his  religion.  Not  because  he 
was  a  papist,  indeed,  was  he  punished  at  all  times ; 
but  because  the  papist  was  also  the  rebel. 

"Tis  true  he  was  also  punished  for  the  crime  of  loy- 
alty to  his  faith.  No  one  can  have  read  the  history  of 
Ireland  in  the  eighteenth  century,  as  told  by  Lecky, 
without  being  assured  that  Irish  Romanists,  as  such, 
and  because  such,  suffered  every  indignity,  and 
crouched  beneath  the  cruelest  and  most  unjust  civil 
disabilities.  Every  effort  that  English  Protestantism 
could  suggest  was  put  forth  to  compel  the  Irish  to 
forsake  the  faith  of  their  fathers  and  receive  the  faith 
of  their  conquerors.  By  education,  by  social  contempt, 


SAINT  PATRICK.  189 

by  laws  of  inheritance,  by  legislation  excluding  from 
municipal  office,  by  tithe  rent  for  the  support  of  the 
Church  of  but  one-seventh  of  the  population,  by  laws 
forbidding  schools  conducted  by  members  of  their 
own  religion,  did  the  dominant  class  insult  domestic 
affections,  love  of  country,  sacredness  of  conscience. 

No  wonder  the  native  Irish  hate  England.  It  were 
not  human  nature  to  feel  otherwise.  And,  however 
we  may  deplore  it,  we  are  compelled  to  confess  and 
admit  there  has  been  no  lack  of  cause  for  the  unhappy 
sentiment. 

Ireland's  history,  however,  is  not  within  the  scope 
of  my  address  to  discuss;  but  with  you  to  wander 
back  to  one  of  the  comparatively  bright  and  pleasant 
ages  in  that  history.  For  few  eras  in  the  history  of 
my  native  land  surpass  that  in  which  Saint  Patrick 
wrought,  and  over  which  his  salutary  influence  was 
most  emphatically  felt  and  appreciated. 

What  Saint  Patrick  wrought  must  have  been  of 
highest  worth  to  have  secured  for  the  worker  an  em- 
balmment and  enshrinement  so  sacred  and  so  tender 
within  the  hearts  of  Irishmen  for  1300  years.  No 
Pharaoh  found  lodgment  in  a  prouder  pyramid  than 
that  built  for  Saint  Patrick  of  the  myriad  hearts  of 
grateful,  reverential  Irish  believers.  He  died  in  the  f 
fifth  century.  Yet  over  the  gulf  of  ages  his  influ- 
ence has  traveled.  Through  those  centuries  his  life 
diffuses  its  aromatic  fragrance.  His  name  is  still  a 
magic  spell.  To  spots  supposed  to  have  been  hallowed 
by  his  touch,  or  sacred  from  the  shadow  which  he  cast 
upon  them,  hundreds  in  this  age  have  paid  their  eager 


190  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

pilgrimage,  persuaded  that  in  such  spots  it  was  alto- 
gether possible  to  obtain  at  once  the  blessed  riddance 
of  sin's  guilt  and  of  the  body's  ills. 

Such  is  the  majesty  of  goodness  !  Such  is  the  im- 
mortality of  a  consecrated  life !  Such  is  the  sponta- 
neous homage  rendered  by  unsophisticated  humanity 
to  embodied  gentleness,  heroism,  piety,  and  self-sacri- 
fice !  Bad  as  we  sometimes  think  our  common  nature 
to  be,  its  responsiveness  to  such  a  life  as  Patrick's  helps 
to  redeem  it  from  utter  loathing  and  distrust. 

No  Homer-like  singer  was  he ;  weaving  all  loveli- 
ness and  grandeur  of  nature,  all  beauty  and  bravery 
of  man,  all  sublimity  and  sacredness  of  heroes  and  of 
gods,  into  an  imperishable  epic. 

No  warrior  was  he,  leading  forth  innumerous  hosts ; 
fired  with  one  passion — patriotism ;  aiming  at  one 
end — liberty;  in  every  action,  victorious;  over  every 
tyrant,  triumphant ;  peace  for  untold  generations  the 
fruit  of  his  endeavors ;  and  freedom  for  conscience, 
life,  and  limb,  the  heirloom  of  unnumbered  house- 
holds, secured  by  his  bravery. 

No  sage  was  he,  as  we  in  modern  days  are,  or  as 
they  in  days  Platonic  were  wont  to  speak.  No  sage 
was  he,  from  whose  all-piercing  ken  no  star  withheld 
its  secrets ;  no  flower  refused  to  blush  its  science  ;  no 
living  thing  enveiled  its  meaning  ;  no  depth  had  dared 
to  say — nor  height — "  'Tis  not  in  me." 

No,  no ;  not  one  of  these  was  he.  Though,  with 
whatever  was  noble  or  was  brave,  was  beautiful  or  was 
true,  his  southward-looking  soul  delighted  to  hold  en- 
trancing fellowship. 


SATSTT  PATRICK.  191 

I  have  found  it  all  but  impossible  to  say  where  St. 
Patrick  was  born.  The  statements  of  his  sixty  biog- 
raphers have  not  settled  the  matter  beyond  power 
of  contradiction.  The  opinions  entertained  upon  the 
matter  may  be  narrowed  to  two  localities :  one  inclining 
to  the  belief  that  he  was  born  in  France ;  the  other, 
that  he  was  born  in  what  is  now,  but  was  not  in  his 
day,  Scotland,  at  a  place  called  Kilpatrick.  Certain  it 
is  he  was  not  born  in  Ireland ;  but  he  was  carried 
there  from  one  of  those  localities  as  a  slave  taken  in 
war,  and  for  years  performed  the  work  of  a  slave  for 
one  ISTulcho,  a  chieftain  in  that  part  of  Ireland  known 
to-day  as  the  County  Antrim.  While  there  he  saw 
the  paganism  of  the  people,  and,  having  been  trained 
in  Christian  truth  and  grace  in  his  father's  house,  his 
soul  burned  with  desire  to  bring  the  people  of  this 
land  into  the  possession  of  the  new  and  better  life  of 
which  he  had  personal  experience. 

Escaping  from  his  seven  years'  servitude  to  his 
home,  he  never  forgot  the  place  or  people  of  his 
bond-slave  life.  In  dreams  he  often  saw  them  calling 
on  him  to  return  to  them  and  teach  them  some  holier 
truths  than  their  own  priesthood  knew  or  taught.  His 
maternal  uncle  was  Saint  Martin  of  Tours,  to  whom  he 
paid  a  visit ;  and  at  once  devoting  himself  to  the  vo- 
cation of  the  ministry  in  purpose,  entered  upon  the 
studies  preparatory  thereto.  It  is  said  he  joined  one 
of  the  monastic  orders  of  the  south — the  Augustin- 
ian — visited  Rome,  saw  and  received  the  benediction 
of  the  then  Bishop  of  Rome,  Pope  Celestine ;  from 
whom  he  received  a  commission  to  take  with  him 


192          GUAKD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

twenty  fellow-missionaries  and  make,  to  the  Celtic 
people,  the  offer  of  Christianity.  He  landed  on  the 
coast  of  Wicklow,  but  not  meeting  with  much  wel- 
come there,  pushed  out  to  sea,  and  finally  landed  in 
what  is  now  called  Dundrum  Bay,  County  Down. 

In  that  neighborhood  he  began  his  missionary  work. 
From  the  chief  men  of  the  locality  he  received  hospi- 
tality and  ready  welcome  for  his  teachings ;  won  many 
to  the  truth,  and  dedicated  his  first  church,  which  had 
formerly  been  a  barn.  He  sought  out  his  former 
master,  Nulcho ;  but  in  vain  tried  to  win  him  to 
Christianity.  Yet  he  was  not  without  fruit  for  his 
labors  among  the  inhabitants;  many  of  whom  ac- 
cepted the  Gospel,  and  from  whom  he  selected  and  or- 
dained priests  and  formed  churches. 

His  wish  was  to  visit  Tara — the  seat  of  the  monarch 
of  Ireland  ;  and  to  do  so  upon  the  occasion  of  a  great 
national  religious  festival.  It  was  his  fixed  purpose 
to  seek  first  the  favor  and  conversion  of  the  kings  and 
princes  and  chieftains  of  the  land,  sure  of  winning 
the  people  if  once  he  had  conquered  their  rulers. 

Nor  did  -he  attempt  in  vain.  After  deducting  from 
the  results  attributed  to  his  labors  by  ardent  and 
venerating  annalists,  we  are  safe  in  believing  that  pa- 
ganism as  the  national  religion  of  Ireland  gave  place 
to  Christianity.  Druidism  lost  its  spell.  The  religion 
of  the  Galilean  once  again  conquered.  Kings  be- 
came disciples  of  the  Nazarene.  Chieftains  were 
baptized  into  the  faith  of  the  Gospel.  Children  re- 
ceived religious  instruction,  and  became  enrolled  as 
members  of  the  Church  of  Christ.  Pastors  were 


SAINT   PATRICK. 

educated  and  ordained  to  the  work  of  the  ministry ; 
and  thereby  the  hundred  lands  were  given  for  churches, 
and  this  upon  a  very  generous  scale.  Of  the  highest- 
born  were  n't  men  found  as  overseers  —  bishops. 
Schools  arose,  and  without  difficulty  were  speedily 
crowded  to  overflowing  with  earnest  and  diligent 
seekers  after  knowledge.  Christianity,  in  one  word,  had 
won  its  way  to  supremacy  without  the  sacrifice  of  a 
solitary  martyr's  blood  and  life.  Ah  !  what  a  simple 
saying ;  but  what  a  sublime  one !  Christianity,  with 
its  rest  for  weary  hearts,  and  its  peace  for  guilty  con- 
sciences ;  with  its  gift  of  grace  for  the  feeble  will,  and 
its  pledge  of  victory  over  evil  for  the  selfish  heart ; 
with  its  benign  doctrines  of  the  Fatherhood  of  God 
and  the  Brotherhood  of  Men ;  with  its  might  of 
kingship  over  all  things,  and  its  sure  and  certain  hope 
of  personal  immortality,  both  for  body  and  for  soul ! 
Christianity,  waking  intellect  from  torpor  into  manly 
life  of  thought,  investigation,  and  unending  growth  in 
vigor  of  power  and  in  acquisition  of  knowledge ! 
Christianity,  the  friend  of  woman,  of  the  helpless, 
and  of  the  slave!  Christianity,  parent  of  all  arts  and 
patroness  of  all  sciences!  scattering  witli  unstinted 
hand  the  germs  of  highest  civilization,  and  summon- 
ing the  prostrate  spirit  from  vassalage  and  lust,  igno- 
rance and  superstition,  into  the  liberty  of  enlightened 
reason,  sanctified  affection,  and  rational  belief  !  Chris- 
tianity, solace  of  the  broken-hearted  !  healer  of  the 
wounded  spirit !  f ulfiller  of  man's  loftest  aspirations 
and  nourisher  of  man's  sublimest  hopes — lifting  the 
thing  into  the  rank  of  a  person,  and  the  chattel  into 


194         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  consciousness  of  a  self -proprietor — placing  upon 
the  brow  of  the  lowliest  the  diadem  of  sovereignt}7, 
and  on  the  spirit  of  the  humblest  the  vesture  of  a 
king  and  priest,  for  whose,  culture  all  nature  moves — 
for  whose  growth  all  forces  act ! 

Druidism :  this  was  the  name  of  the  religion  be- 
lieved in  by  the  Irish  when  St.  Patrick  began  his 
work  among  them.  But  little  is  known  of  Druidism. 
Caesar  and  Pliny  are  the  two  chief  sources  of  infor- 
mation. And  what  they  offer  is  indeed  brief,  though 
suggestive.  Gaul  was  once  subject  to  Druidism. 
Britain  in  Caesar's  day  was  the  center.  Ireland  be- 
came a  stronghold.  The  Roman  conquerors  of  Britain 
found  it  no  small  matter  to  crush  out  Druidism,  but 
they  did,  chasing  the  Druids  from  the  mainland  to 
the  island  of  Anglesea,  where  the  priests  were  cut 
off  with  a  terrible  slaughter. 

The  priesthood  wielded  an  awful  and  vast  control 
over  their  votaries.  Its  members  were  carefully  and 
elaborately  trained  for  their  office,  the  education  ex- 
tending over  twenty  years.  The  secrets  were  for- 
bidden to  be  written,  carved,  or  graven ;  they  were 
sacredly  committed  to  memory.  The  sun  was  an 
object  of  supreme  worship.  Fire,  his  symbol,  was 
deemed  sacred.  Once  a  year  all  households,  having 
extinguished  their  fires,  kindled  them  afresh  from  the 
chief  Druid's  altar.  They  taught  the  unity  of  God, 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  and  believed  in  trans- 
migration, even  as  Pythagoras,  as  the  Brahmin,  and 
as  the  Kaffir  of  South  Africa.  They  were  Magi — the 
wise  men  of  the  West,  and  their  origin  is,  no  doubt, 


SAINT  PATRICK.  195 

one  with  that  of  the  wise  men  and  fire-worshipers  of 
the  far-off  East. 

They  were  students  of  botany,  medicine,  and  as- 
trology. They  were  free  from  military  service  and 
from  taxation.  They  were  at  once  the  clergy  and  the 
educators  of  the  Celtic  people.  They  used  the  dread- 
ful weapon  of  excommunication  against  all  who 
divulged  their  secrets  or  disowned  their  authority. 

Groves  of  oak  were  their  chosen  retreats.  The  oak 
was  to  them  a  symbol  of  the  Divine.  The  mistletoe, 
a  parasite  attached  to  the  oak,  was  deemed  of  rarest 
virtue ;  and  when  removed  from  the  oak  ceremonies 
the  most  impressive  occurred.  The  priest — the  arch- 
Druid — dressed  in  white,  moved  forth,  a  golden  knife 
in  his  hand,  gold  upon  his  brow  and  girdle,  severed 
the  mistletoe  from  the  branch,  and  caught  it  in  his 
priestly  vestment,  two  milk-white  bulls  being  sacrificed 
in  celebration  of  the  auspicious  event.  "  The  mistle- 
toe was  called  the  all-heal,  and  its  virtues  were  believed 
to  be  very  great." 

"  But  the  most  remarkable  of  all  Druidical  charms 
•was  the  anguineum  or  snake's  egg.  It  was  said  to  be 
produced  from  the  saliva  and  frothy  sweat  of  a 
number  of  serpents  writhing  in  an  entangled  mass,  and 
to  be  forced  up  into  the  air  as  soon  as  formed.  The 
Druid,  fortunate  above  his  fellows,  who  managed,  as 
it  fell,  to  catch  it  in  his  sagum.  or  cloak,  rode  off  at 
full  speed  on  a  horse  that  had  been  in  waiting  for 
him,  pursued  by  the  serpents  till  they  were  stopped 
by  the  intervention  of  a  running  stream."  According 

to  an  ancient  authoritv,  the  egg  was  about  the  size  of 
14 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  moderately  large  round  apple,  and  "  when  thrown 
into  the  water  would  float  against  the  current — even 
if  encased  in  gold."  * 

Though  learned,  the  ceremonies  of  the  Druids  in- 
cluded most  inhuman  rites — even  to  the  extent  of 
human  sacrifices.  In  mechanics  they  had  attained  to 
no  mean  skill ;  as  may  be  seen  by  the  remains  of  Stone- 
henge,  "  which  was  the  cathedral  of  the  arch-Druid 
of  Britain."  Avebury  is  also  another  remnant  of  their 
architecture ;  originally  formed  "  in  the  shape  of  a 
circle  with  a  serpent  attached  to  it — the  circle  being 
regarded  as  the  symbol  of  the  Supreme  Being  ;  and 
the  serpent  of  the  Divine  Son." 

Patrick  found  Ireland  opulent  in  melody  of  music 
and  of  songs.  The  bards  held  a  dignified  position. 
They  wore  colors  second  but  to  the  monarch's.  They 
were  the  historians  of  their  day.  Of  most  retentive 
memories,  they  recorded  upon  these  mental  tablets 
the  brave  deeds  and  the  brilliant  victories  of  chieftain 
and  of  prince.  They  treasured  up  their  virtues  and 
rehearsed  them  in  days  of  feast  and  battle.  They 
chanted  elegies  over  the  dead,  and  poured  valor  into 
the  bosoms  of  the  living  by  their  heroic  numbers. 

]Sror  were  they  silent  when  deeds  of  wrong  had 
been  committed  ;  for  with  withering  satire  they  could 
lash  or  lance  the  tyrant  or  the  spoliator.  They  fulfilled 
the  duties  of  our  modern  censor — the  press ;  and 
oft  compelled  abandonment  of  crime  and  threw  a 
shield  invulnerable  around  the  life  and  rights  of  the 
lowliest  of  the  people. 

"Encyclopedia  Britanuica,"  article  -'Druidism." 


SAINT  PATRICK.  197 

They  were  masters  of  the  harp,  and  to  them 
Wales  disdained  not  to  send  her  sons,  that  they  might 
learn  the  art  of  music,  while  from  them  Charlemagne 
obtained  professors  for  the  colleges  of  both  France 
and  Italy. 

As  to  the  character  and  the  charms  of  Irish  poetry 
and  music  you  have  had  frequent  opportunity  of 
judging  and  of  proving.  Moore  and  Sir  John 
Stevenson  traveled  through  Ireland,  learning  what 
they  might  of  its  ancient  songs  and  tunes.  They 
have  been  printed  and  are  in  circulation  over  the 
broad  earth  to-day.  Of  "  Rory  O'More,"  and  "  Gar- 
ry Owen,"  "  The  Meeting  of  the  Waters,"  and  "  The 
Last  Rose  of  Summer,"  "  The  Colleen,"  and  "  The 
Twisting  of  the  Rope,"  I  need  not  speak  in  your 
hearing.  In  some  of  your  memories  there  yet  linger 
the  tones  of  her  voice  who,  in  the  earlier  days  of 
California  life,  touched  and  thrilled  all  hearts  as  she 
drew  tears  from  all  eyes,  while  waking  melody  from  the 
shattered  chords  of 

The  barp  that  once  through  Tara's  halls 
The  soul  of  music  shed ; 

or  shaking  dewdrops  once  and  once  again  from  the 
fadeless  leaves  of  "  The  Last  Rose  of  Summer," — her 
voice,  which  I  too  heard,  "  The  Limerick  Lass,"  the 
noble-hearted,  the  pure-souled  Catherine  Hayes ! 

As  we  read  the  brief  records  of  Patrick's  life  which 
have  come  down  to  our  day,  we  think  of  him  as  a  man 
of  generous  heart,  keen  and  intense  sensibilities,  capa- 
ble of  toilsome  and  weariless  labor  under  the  inspira- 


198           GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

tion  of  a  burning  passion  for  saving  souls.  He  moves 
through  Ireland  with  the  swiftness  of  lightning  and 
with  the  genial  influence  of  a  sunbeam.  He  is  as  fear- 
less as  he  is  gentle ;  he  is  as  fervently  persuasive  as 
he  is  sagely  judicious  in  his  spirit  and  method.  Now 
he  is  in  Kerry,  amid  the  mists  and  glens  and  lakes  of 
that  wild  and  picturesque  region.  Now  he  is  in  Mayo, 
founding  churches,  ordaining  ministers,  and  spending 
the  chief  portion  of  Lent  in  lonely  contemplation  and 
self-inspection  and  prayer  upon  the  slopes  and  crests 
of  Croagh  Patrick.  Now  he  is  at  Tara,  the  center 
and  seat  of  the  chief  monarch  of  the  island,  instruct- 
ing him  and  his  family  in  the  great  truths  of  the  new 
faith ;  assisting  in  the  reorganization  of  the  ancient 
laws  of  the  nation ;  or  mediating  between  conflicting 
and  embittered  chiefs  and  princes.  Now  he  is  at 
Armagh,  discharging  his  functions  as  Primate  of  Ire- 
land, arid  founding  the  great  seminary  for  the  educa- 
tion of  the  sons  and  scions  of  chieftains  and  kings  and 
people — one  of  many  such  established  and  encouraged 
by  his  ardent  and  unflagging  patronage. 

The  Saint's  work  was  not  such  as  secular  historians 
care  to  dilate  upon.  And  the  rivalries  of  sections  of 
Christ's  Church,  and  the  bitternesses  as  well,  together 
with  the  mixture  of  fable  with  truth  surrounding  the 
life  of  the  Saint,  have  united  to  produce  but  meager 
and  unsatisfactory  records  concerning  him  and  his 
work.  He  displayed  no  mean  degree  of  sagacity  in 
his  methods.  As  the  people  rallied  around  their  kings 
and  chieftains,  and  usually  obeyed  both  the  precepts 
and  examples  of  their  leaders,  Patrick's  plans,  as  has 


SAINT  PATRICK.  199 

been  already  remarked,  led  him  to  seek  first  the  con- 
version of  the  rulers  of  the  people  and  of  the  septs ; 
thus  gaining  the  highest  sanction  for  his  endeavors  to 
convert  the  people,  and  protection,  as  well,  in  the 
peaceful  prosecution  of  his  divine  work. 

Indeed,  such  was  the  plan  adopted  by  all  his  brethren 
in  their  missionary  work.  Nor  was  any  other  so 
judicious  or  so  fraught  with  pledges  of  success.  Thus 
the  Frankish  king,  Clovis,  was  influenced ;  thus  Au- 
gustine won  the  king  of  Kent.  The  Eastern,  or 
Greek  Church,  gained  its  footing  in  the  Russian  Em- 
pire in  a  similar  fashion. 

The  people's  sympathies  being  enlisted,  they  were 
taught  and  trained  as  catechumens  for  the  rite  of  bap- 
tism, to  which  hundreds  cheerfully  submitted. 

Then  began  the  work  of  building  humble  places  of 
worship  for  the  rites  of  the  new  faith.  Then  around 
these  sites  of  worship  schools  arose,  and  it  was  no  less 
the  work  of  the  missionaries  to  educate  their  converts, 
old  and  young,  in  all  the  learning  of  the  age,  than  in 
the  principles  and  practice  of  their  religion.  Very 
noticeable  is  it  that  with  remarkable  avidity  the  peo- 
ple sought  after  knowledge,  and  furthered  every  effort 
to  supply  their  families  with  the  benefits  of  the  clerical 
masters.  The  pupils  were  numbered  by  hundreds  of 
both  sexes.  The  utmost  energies  of  the  masters  were 
taxed  in  meeting  the  singularly  ardent  thirst  created. 
Irish  schools  became  famous  in  Britain  and  over  the 
continent.  They  were  centers  of  resistless  attraction 
to  such  as  yearned  for  wisdom  in  Italy,  Spain,  France. 
All  the  arts,  seven  in  number,  might  be  acquired  there. 


200          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Through  ages  following,  and  when  learning  was  all  but 
totally  eclipsed  on  the  continent,  the  seminaries  estab- 
lished through  Patrick's  efforts  shed  a  steady  and  a 
brilliant  luster,  in  whose  copious  light  the  courts  of 
monarchs  and  the  cells  of  monasteries  equally  shared. 

Thus  it  was  given  to  our  Saint  to  prove  that  in  the 
Church  of  Christ,  when  true  to  her  Master  and  her 
mission,  the  intellect  finds  no  less  generous  a  patron 
than  the  heart  and  conscience  of  mankind. 

The  laws  of  reasoning  and  the  science  of  numbers ; 
the  principles  of  grammar  and  the  elements  of  music ; 
the  science  which  seeks  to  interpret  the  secrets  of  the 
heavens,  and  the  art  wherewith  man  seeks,  by  polished 
period,  pointed  illustration,  and  impassioned  appeal,  to 
convince  and  persuade  while  he  instructs  and  delights 
his  hearers — the  art  of  rhetoric — all  found,  in  the 
persons  of  the  clergy,  earnest,  fervent,  cultivated,  and 
apt  professors.  Indeed,  from  none  other  than  they  could 
such  learning  have  been  obtained  during  the  dreariest 
ages  of  European  life.  These  men  found  time  to 
study  and  to  instruct.  They  scattered  the  germs  of 
civilization  as  well  as  went  forth  to  sow  the  seeds  of 
the  Gospel.  They  tamed  the  fiercest  natures.  They 
polished  the  roughest  tastes. '  They  refined  the  grossest 
tempers.  They  transformed  the  basest  lives.  By  this 
method  their  successors  in  the  Church  on  the  conti- 
nent won  immortality  of  fame. 

Saint  Patrick  was  a  Christian  missionary ;  the  son, 
the  grandson,  of  Christian  ancestors ;  his  father  a  dea- 
con, his  grandfather  a  presbyter  of  the  Christian 
Church,  probably  in  Scotland. 


SAINT  PATRICK.  201 

The  Christian  Church  is,  in  principle  and  by  Divine 
authority,  missionary.  Its  life  is  one  with  the  spirit 
of  propagation,  diffusion,  aggression.  No  one  can 
mistake  this,  or  fail  to  apprehend  it  as  the  genius  of 
her  founder  and  his  apostles.  Lacking  this,  Chris- 
tianity proves  herself  fallen  from  her  high  estate. 
She  has  that  which  every  nation  under  the  sun  needs, 
and  which  but  herself  can  adequately  supply. 

Her  empire,  by  right,  is  a  universal  one,  unre- 
stricted by  zones,  races,  or  governments.  And  to  win 
to  herself  that  which  by  right  is  hers,  she  must  be 
missionary.  To  all  who  have  not  what  she  has,  she  is 
compelled  to  carry  and  offer  her  gifts. 

Hence  the  Church  in  both  her  branches  or  families 
— Eastern  or  Greek,  Western  or  Latin — existed  as  a 
vast  "  Society  for  the  Propagation  of  the  Faith."  The 
"Western  or  Latin  Christianity  proved  true  and  faith- 
ful to  this  idea,  and  sent  forth  into  the  barbaric  nations 
of  Europe  the  men  to  whom  Germany,  Scandinavia, 
England,  Ireland,  are  indebted  for  whatever  of  Chris- 
tian civilization  they  possess  to-day. 

The  mission  was  an  arduous  one ;  it  wras  full  of 
peril,  and  called  for  skill,  toil,  and  bravery ;  for  zeal, 
compassion,  and  patience ;  for  the  noblest  human  parts 
and  for  the  richest  divine  aids. 

The  peoples  to  be  converted  were  fierce,  sensual, 
idolatrous.  They  rioted  in  war,  .plunder,  and  rude 
pleasures.  In  successive  waves  they  had  swept,  from 
the  highlands  of  Central  Asia,  across  the  plains  and 
along  the  river-valleys  of  Europe,  resistless  as  the 
ocean,  and  terrific  as  the  thunder-storm.  Over  the 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Danube  and  across  the  Hellespont  they  rolled  their 
myriad  hosts.  The  Alps  could  not  stay  them,  nor  the 
sea  deter.  Defeated,  they  gathered  courage ;  and  vic- 
torious, they  poured  contempt  upon  the  once  irresisti- 
ble legionaries  of  the  Eagle  and  the  Caesars.  And 
while  some  made  the  dry  land  their  pathway  of  prog- 
ress, others  chose  the  sea  as  their  road  to  conquest ; 
till  from  Sicily  to  the  Giant's  Causeway — from  the 
Bosphorus  to  the  Atlantic — from  the  shores  of  Africa 
to  the  white  cliffs  of  Albion — they  strewed  Europe 
with  the  spoils  of  battle,  and  planted  Europe  with  the 
seeds  of  a  new  and  vigorous,  a  brave,  heroic,  and 
freedom-loving  race. 

While  Rome,  secular,  yielded  to  the  o'erpowering 
pressure  of  these  innumerous  hosts,  Rome,  spiritual, 
arose  in  conscious  might,  girded  up  her  loins,  buckled 
on  her  armor,  and  went  forth  to  take  captive  these 
very  nations  by  weapons  of  celestial  temper— the 
invincible  principles  of  truth,  purity,  justice,  love — 
"  the  glorious  Gospel  of  the  blessed  God." 

There  were  the  perils  of  strange  countries  and  of 
untried  and  rigorous  climates.  There  were  the  perils 
of  somber,  vast,  and  untracked  forests,  and  of  the 
monsters  that  found  in  them  their  breeding-places  and 
their  feeding-grounds. 

There  were  the  perils  of  sanguinary  priests  and  of 
their  superstitious  votaries.  Life  was  a  cheap  thing 
with  such,  and  its  destruction  but  a  pastime.  Their 
religions  were  gloomy,  gory,  ghastly.  Their  sports 
were  coarse ;  their  knowledge,  scant ;  their  arts  of 
agriculture  primitive  and  crude.  The  forest  was  their 


SAINT  PATRICK.  203 

home  ;  the  scantiest  dress  covered  them — often  none 
other  than  a  beast's  raw  hide,  buckled  round  their 
loins ;  their  hair  long,  shaggy ;  their  weapons  of  war 
few  in  number  and  of  simplest  class :  a  sword,  a  pike- 
a  shield.  On  their  shields  they  loved  to  lift  the  brav- 
est of  their  tribe  to  the  rank  of  leader ;  and,  obedient  to 
his  will,  went  forth  to  spoliate,  massacre,  and  possess. 

Yet  to  these  were  the  benefactions  of  Cliristianity 
borne  by  the  early  evangelists  of  Europe ! 

Wliat  must  have  been  the  stuff  of  which  such  men 
were  made  ?  They  were  strong ;  they  were  gentle ; 
they  were  fearless ;  they  were  tender.  A  large  heart, 
filled  with  a  great  love,  inspired  and  impelled  them. 

Of  the  many  fruits  of  Patrick's  labor  none  has  won 
renown  more  signal  and  undying  than  the  great  apos- 
tle to  the  Picts  of  Scotland — Columbkill.  His  moth- 
er was  eminently  pious,  and  of  royal  blood.  His 
father  was  of  the  great  O'Xeills,  and  was  also  royal  in 
lineage.  Columb  was  devoted  to  the  service  of  God 
and  the  Church  by  his  mother,  even  from  the  hour 
of  his  birth.  He  was  of  noble  presence  and  of  noble 
spirit.  He  was  by  nature  a  poet,  a  soldier,  and  an 
orator ;  of  fiery  and  impetuous  spirit,  yet  of  heart  as 
tender  as  a  woman's. 

He  entered  the  Church,  and  devoted  himself  to  the 
monastic  life.  High-spirited,  brave,  he  was  fitted  to 
be  a  leader  of  men,  and  an  apostle  to  strange  and 
fierce  countrymen.  He  was  especially  the  founder  of 
the  monastic  system  of  Ireland.  From  Durrow  in 
Queen's  County,  to  the  Hill  of  Oaks,  Perry,  he  left 
the  impress  of  his  genius. 


204          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

But  it  was  upon  the  western  islands  of  Scotland 
that  he  won  his  right  to  everlasting  remembrance  in 
the  annals  of  Church  history.  For  forty  years  he 
ruled  as  Abbot  of  the  Republic  of  lona,  fearless  in 
the  presence  of  monarchs  as  he  was  in  the  presence 
of  nature's  fiercest,  sternest  forces  of  tempest  and  of 
sea. 

The  monastic  system  gained  a  firm  footing  in  Ire- 
land. If  monks  and  monasteries  be  an  unalloyed 
blessing  to  a  land,  great  must  have  been  the  benedic- 
tion bestowed  upon  the  Irish  land  and  people. 

Of  plain  and  unpretentious  structure,  of  ample  or 
of  scanty  dimensions,  monasteries  might  have  been  seen 
on  lonely  island,  on  desolate  headland,  in  lovely  glen, 
in  sunny  vale,  by  stern  lake  shore,  amid  the  desola- 
tion of  storm-shattered  cliffs,  and  where  the  only  com- 
panions were  the  bird  of  the  night  and  of  the  tempest, 
the  only  voices  the  weird  wailings  of  the  melancholy 
wind  or  the  sea's  unresting  monotone  of  sadness. 

I  am  filled  with  amazement  as  I  run  over,  column 
after  column,  page  after  page  of  history,  replete 
with  the  names  of  the  convents,  abbeys,  and  nunneries, 
erected  in  Ireland  during  and  following  Patrick's 
days.  Princes  build  and  endow  them ;  chieftains 
erect  and  spend  their  days  in  them  ;  the  noblest  born 
become  their  abbots  or  abbesses.  Weary  of  the  end- 
less wars ;  disgusted  with  the  perpetual  treachery ; 
sick  of  ever-recurring  disappointments  in  love  or  in 
ambition,  votaries  seek  in  them  a  shelter  and  a  quiet 
haven.  Or  worsted  in  the  struggle  of  the  flesh,  or 
filled  with  remorse  and  shame  for  lives  of  bloodshed 


SAINT   PATRICK.  205 

or  deeds  of  hist,  they  fly  to  the  cell  for  penitential 
grief,  and  to  the  stern  dictatorship  of  the  abbot  for 
duties  that  shall  appease  and  chastisement  that  shall 
quiet  the  restless  dialings  of  a  guilty  conscience. 

The  accumulation  of  real  estate  must  have  proved 
an  extremely  perilous  temptation ;  and  the  transfer 
of  such  a  number  of  active  spirits  from  the  mass  of 
society  could  not  but  have  seriously  imperiled  the 
economic  and  industrial  conditions  of  life. 

I  am  not  at  all  disposed  to  recklessly  condemn,  as 
unmitigated  nuisances,  the  monasteries  of  Ireland,  or 
of  any  other  land.  I  do  not  say  that  they  did  not 
mean  well  when  founded ;  or  that  within  them  there 
were  but  idleness  and  licentiousness.  For  I  have 
read  a  little  history,  and  I  cherish  a  love  for  truth. 

The  monastic  life  rendered  not  a  few  lasting  serv- 
ices to  our  civilization.  In  darkest  days  monasteries 
kept  watch  round  the  altar  fires  of  learning  as  well 
as  of  piety ;  to  them  ardent  saints  fled  for  solace  and 
for  nurture,  and  zealous  scholars  found  within  their 
walls  welcome,  sympathy,  encouragement.  The  no- 
blest products  of  architecture  were  the  fruit  of  their 
skill  and  toil.  The  first  principles  of  improved  and 
intelligent  agriculture  and  horticulture  gained  their 
recognition  and  their  industrious  and  enthusiastic  ap- 
plication. Soil  the  most  barren  responded  in  fer- 
tility to  their  assiduous  culture.  Fens  and  marshes 
breeding  but  vermin,  exhaling  but  malaria,  yielded 
to  their  persistent  efforts,  and  gave  place  to  gardens 
ablaze  with  fruit  trees,  or  fields  in  which  cattle  fed 
knee-deep  in  verdure.  Slavery  gradually  melted  and 


206         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

dissolved  in  the  genial  sunshine  of  a  religion  which 
proclaimed  the  serf  as  real  a  brother  of  the  divine 
Man  as  is  the  impurpled  Caesar  of  the  Western 
Empire. 

Hospitality  of  no  stinted  order  welcomed  guests 
of  all  ranks  to  sit  at  her  board  and  forget  the  perils 
of  travel  and  the  pangs  of  hunger  in  the  good  cheer 
of  a  homely  or  a  sumptuous  repast,  and  in  the  peace- 
ful slumbers  of  a  clean  and  sweet,  though  not  luxu- 
rious, couch. 

Nor  can  we  forget  what  seats  and  centers  of  in- 
tellectual life  these  monasteries  often  proved.  There 
dwelt  the  annalist  and  chronicler,  busy  in  his  daily 
record  of  the  events  of  the  world  beyond  his  cell. 
There  dwelt  the  poet,  composing  songs  of  hallowed 
aspiration,  among  the  choicest  of  those  chanted  by 
the  churches  and  choirs  of  our  own  unmonastie  age. 
There  dwelt  the  students  of  Aristotle  and*of  Augus- 
tine, grappling  with  the  most  subtle  and  metaphysic 
propositions — "fixed  fate,  free  will,  foreknowledge 
absolute,"  the  necessary  existence  of  God ;  the  how 
and  the  wherefore  of  three  Persons  in  the  Godhead  ; 
the  fall  of  man  ;  the  origin  of  evil ;  the  philosophy  of 
th%  atonement ;  the  nominal  and  the  real  in  Reason 
and  in  Nature  ;  the  virtues  of  attrition  and  contri- 
tion ;  the  origin  and  the  end  of  all  things.  Never 
were  so  many  master  minds  engaged  in  vigorous,  in- 
trospective, metaphysic  investigation,  as  when  the 
monastic  system  had  attained  the  acme  of  its  power 
in  the  twelfth,  thirteenth,  and  fourteenth  centuries. 
From  monasteries  came  forth  the  sagest  counselors 


SAINT  PATRICK.  207 

of  princes,  the  wisest  rulers  of  the  Church,  the  me- 
diators most  judicious  and  most  successful  between 
rival  princes  or  strifeful  nations. 

In  them  grew  up  into  immortal  fame  doctors  an- 
gelic and  doctors  seraphic ;  doctors  invincible  and 
doctors  resolute ;  doctors  subtle  and  doctors  irrefra- 
gable ;  doctors  wonderful  and  doctors  evangelical. 
The  results  of  their  cogitations  have  not  reached  us 
in  a  very  tangible,  readable,  and  popular  shape.  The 
themes  they  discussed  were  not  what  we  would  term 
practical.  They  dealt  with  problems  exceedingly  un- 
like those  which  challenge  the  great  thinkers  of  our 
day.  The  physical  sciences  had  not  as  yet,  save  in 
Roger  Bacon,  won  their  notice. 

The  history  of  the  decline  and  fall  of  the  monastic 
system  it  is  not  our  province  to  discuss.  That  mon- 
asteries became  in  Italy,  in  Spain,  in  England,  in 
Scotland,  centers  of  depravity  the  most  base,  of  un- 
cleanness  the  most  nauseating  ;  that  the  orders  in 
succession  speedily  left  their  first  estate,  and  rushed 
with  resistless  impetuosity  adown  the  steps  of  the 
earthly  and  sensual — if  not  devilish — no  candid  stu- 
dent of  history  dare  deny.  Sworn  to  obey,  they  be- 
came towering  tyrants  ;  sworn  to  poverty,  they  rolfcd 
in  affluence ;  devoted  to  purity,  they  wallowed  in 
filth ;  monasteries,  once  seats  of  industry,  became 
hives  of  drones;  shelters  of  virtues,  they  grew  into 
cesspools  of  vice,  until  monarchs  and  peoples  united 
in  demanding  either  thorough  reformation  or  utter 
dissolution ! 

Not  the  hospitality  they  had  shown  to  weary  trav- 


2G8         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

elers  ;  not  the  contributions  they  had  offered  to  the 
shrine  of  art ;  nofc  the  wilds  they  had  transformed 
into  beauty  and  fertility  ;  not  the  imperishable  piles  of 
petrified  music  they  had  helped  to  rear  in  every  city 
of  Europe ;  not  the  piety  of  a  Thomas  a  Kempis ; 
not  the  ardent  devotion  and  rapturous  anticipations 
of  heaven  breathing  through  the  devotional  poetry  of 
a  Saint  Bernard ;  not  one,  not  all,  of  these  excellences 
of  former  days  could  shield  the  fallen  system  from  the 
anathemas  of  nations  whose  sense  of  decency  had  been 
outraged  and  reverence  for  religion  insulted  by  the 
vices  and  faithlessness  of  the  once  sacred  institution  ! 
It  has  not  reached  us  what  were  the  doctrines 
preached  by  Patrick.  That  he  based  his  sermons 
upon  the  gospels  we  cannot  doubt,  for  he  encouraged 
honestly  the  study  of  these  writings.  That  he  urged 
men  to  trust  in  the  Crucified  for  salvation  I  heartily 
believe.  Possibly  the  Apostles'  Creed  may  have  been 
the  sum  and  substance  of  his  teaching.  But,  as  the 
writings  which  have  reached  us  are  the  scantiest, 
consisting  but  of  his  ""  Confession  "  and  of  his  letter 
to  a  Welsh  prince  named  Caradoc,  who  had  landed  in 
Ireland  and  taken  captives  from  the  inhabitants  ;  and 
as*those  to  whom  we  are  indebted  chiefly  for  records 
of  Patrick's  work  and  teaching  deal  not  generally 
with  evangelical  truths,  we  are  left  to  conjecture  as 
to  many  articles  of  his  creed. 

WAS  SAINT  PATRICK  A  ROMAN  CATHOLIC  ? 

Well,  he  was,  and  he  was  not.     He  was,  so  far  as 
his  membership  in  the  Latin  Church  and  not  in  the 


SAINT   PATRICK.  209 

Greek  Church  might  render  him  such.  He  was  not, 
if  it  is  meant  to  say  that  lie  believed  and  taught  all 
that  a  Romanist  of  our  day  believes  and  teaches. 

The  Church  of  Rome  was  not  then  the  perfectly 
formed  and  marvelously  elaborated  system  that  it  is 
to-day.  Far  from  that  —  very  far,  indeed!  The 
Church  of  Rome  is  a  growth  —  the  growth  of  cen- 
turies. It  came  not  to  perfection  in  an  age  nor  in 
many  ages.  We  know  not  that  it  has  as  jet  ceased 
to  grow ;  for  in  our  age  we  know  of  two  dogmas 
which  it  has  stamped  with  its  impress  and  rendered 
binding  upon  the  consciences  of  its  votaries :  the 
dogma  of  the  Immaculate  Conception  of  the  Virgin 
and  the  dogma  of  the  Infallibility  of  the  Pope. 

First.  To-day  no  priest  can  marry.  In  Patrick's 
day  priests  could  and  did  marry.  There  were  no  less 
than  four  married  archbishops  of  Armagh,  Ireland. 
Priestly  marriage  was  not  absolutely  forbidden  until 
the  papacy  of  Gregory  VII. — Hildebrand.  Patrick's 
father,  as  I  have  said,  was  a  deacon  ;  his  grandfather 
a  presbyter  or  priest  of  the  Church. 

Second.  The  doctrine  of  transubstantiation  did 
not  obtain  as  a  dogma  necessary  to  the  salvation  of  a 
Christian  in  Patrick's  day.  It  was  reserved  for  In- 
nocent III.,  in  the  thirteenth  century,  to  lift  this 
dogma  into  the  rank  of  an  article  of  faith. 

Third.  The  doctrine  of  confession  of  sins  to  a  priest, 
as  necessary  to  salvation,  did  not  obtain  in  Patrick's 
day.  .  It  was  also  added  to  the  dogmas  of  the  Church, 
in  the  thirteenth  century,  by  Innocent  III. 

These  are  specimens  or  instances  illustrative  of 


210          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

what  I  assert  regarding  St.  Patrick  and  his  faith  and 
teachings. 

No ;  popery  is  a  thing  of  development,  as  Cardinal 
Newman  tells  us.  The  more  ambitious  the  pope  be- 
came, and  the  more  profound  the  ignorance  and  cre- 
dulity of  the  people,  so  much  the  more  did  the  one 
decree  as  faith  and  the  other  accept  as  truth. 

No  one  would  be  more  astonished  than  Saint  Patrick 
were  he,  without  previous  intimation  of  the  changes 
effected  since  his  day,  to  once  more  mingle  with  the 
votaries  of  the  Church  of  Rome,  and  contrast  the 
Church  of  the  nineteenth  with  that  of  the  fifth 
century. 

Slow,  steady,  persistent,  has  been  that  growth. 
Events  instructed,  failures  disciplined,  antagonisms 
strengthened,  trials  confirmed,  schisms  developed  her. 
"When  men  failed  to  succor,  women  furnished  the  nour- 
ishment ;  when  wisdom  proved  purblind,  semi-madness 
breathed  its  inspiration ;  when  wealth  proved  impotent, 
poverty  became  all-potent ;  when  the  prince  proved 
recreant,  the  people  proved  faithful ;  when  the  people 
proved  rebellious,  the  potentate  proved  her  loyal 
agent.  Advance  she  must,  let  who  will  oppose. 
Win  she  shall,  whatsoever  be  the  method  adopted. 
Scholasticism  shall'  beguile  the  intellectual.  Art 
shall  woo  the  esthetic.  The  monastery  shall  attract 
the  pensive.  The  foreign  mission  shall  afford  an  out- 
let for  the  restless,  the  daring,  and  the  adventurous. 
Penance  shall  satisfy  the  worn-out  sensualist.  To 
one  shall  be  given  the  trust  of  ruling  an  order ;  to 
another,  the  trust  of  erecting  a  cathedral ;  to  an- 


SAINT  PATRICK.  211 

other,  the  trust  of  educating  the  young ;  to  another, 
the  trust  of  envoy  to  distant  courts ;  to  another,  the 
purchase  of  real  estate  in  localities  where,  though 
now  cheap,  in  half  a  century  a  bonanza  shall  be 
found.  To  one  the  pulpit  shall  be  assigned  for  his 
eloquence  ;  to  another,  the  professor's  chair  for  his 
erudition. 

No  idiosyncrasy  is  there  for  which  Rome  cannot 
provide  a  sphere — no  gift  she  cannot  utilize.  She 
caters  for  every  taste.  Student  of  human  nature,  she 
knows  its  weakness  and  kens  its  strength.  There 
is  not  a  corner  of  the  human  heart  she  has  not 
scanned  ;  not  a  spring  she  has  not  touched  ;  not  a 
motive  she  has  not  weighed.  Whom  to  vanquish  by 
terror,  and  whpm  to  enthrall  by  passion,  and  whom 
to  captivate  by  pity,  she  fully  understands.  Nor 
temperament,  nor  taste,  nor  tendency  is  there  with 
which  she  cannot  deal.  The  cravings  of  ambition, 
the  yearnings  of  love,  the  thirst  for  knowledge,  the 
greed  of  gain,  the  love  of  the  beautiful,  the  capacity 
for  ruling,  the  restlessness  that  burns  for  enterprise, 
the  adroitness  that  revels  in  intrigue,  the  suavity  that 
wins  admiration,  the  frankness  that  inspires  trust — 
all,  all,  are  subject  to  her  matchless  mastery  of  skill- 
ful adaptation  to  utility.  She  is  at  once  the  wonder 
of  the  ages  and  the  amazement  of  the  universe ! 

Whatever  could  enchant  in  music  ;  whatever  could 
impress  in  architecture ;  whatever  could  fascinate  in 
color,  form,  or  action,  contributed  to  the  potency  of 
the  spell  with  which  she  bound  and  led  captive  her 

entranced  worshipers.     She  blessed  the  infant  on  its 
15 


212         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AJSTD  ADDRESSES. 

entrance  through  the  gate  of  life;  she  followed  it, 
with  her  benediction  or  her  curse,  as  it  passed  through 
the  gates  of  death.  At  the  marriage-feast  she  was 
present  to  grant  her  sanction  and  to  hallow  the  union. 
In  the  council  chamber  of  the  prince  she  sat  molding 
the  destinies  of  empires  and  controlling  the  fate  of 
races.  Her  whisper  let  loose  the  dogs  of  war ;  her 
fiat  consigned  a  race  to  spoliation,  eblivion,  and  the 
tornb.  Earth  was  her  chess-board  ;  and  all  ranks, 
callings,  and  conditions  but  the  flexible  puppets  with 
which  she  played  her  game  of  conquest,  tyranny,  am- 
bition ! 

Her  eye  is  all  but  omniscient ;  her  influences  all 
but  omnipresent.  Where  we  least  suspect,  her  agents 
are  operating.  When  we  least  fear  it,  we  are  talking 
to  one  of  her  emissaries.  The  demagogue  Kearney 
can  as  effectually  further  her  cause  as  the  polished 
Monsignor  Capel.  The  basest  politician  that  ever 
sold  his  vote  is  as  effectively  economized  as  the  sen- 
ator fearless  and  immaculate  as  the  far-famed  Bayard 
of  chivalry. 

Liberty  she  hates — of  thought,  conscience,  discus- 
sion. Her  alliance  with  liberty  is  a  mesalliance. 
The  union  is  most  unnatural. 

Beneath  the  noble  liberty  of  this  free  nation  Rome 
is  steadily  laying  her  foundations,  amassing  wealth, 
concentrating  power.  She  is,  in  very  deed,  a  "  king- 
dom within  a  kingdom."  She  is  preparing  for  the 
future.  Her  genius  is  "  to  labor  and  to  wait."  The 
moral  incorruption  of  this  nation  is  its  only  safeguard 
against  Rome.  With  its  corruption,  her  hour  and 


SAINT   PATRICK.  213 

power  draw  nigh.  A  conscience  invincible  by  bribe 
is  what  she  dreads.  It  is  the  only  human  thing  she 
cannot  hope  to  grapple  and  o'ermaster.  Even  as  the 
vulture  finds  in  the  carcass  reeking  with  decomposition 
his  fitting  prey  and  food,  so  Rome,  turning  with 
loathing  from  any  people  in  whom  perfect  moral  life 
abides,  hovers  over  and  sweeps  down  upon  whatso- 
ever peoples  are  sinking  into  a  mass  of  moral  decay ! 

"With  men  without  principle  she  knows  how  to  deal. 
Her  methods  are  stealthy  as  the  panther.  As  to  her 
spirit — the  eagle  is  not  so  rapacious  nor  the  serpent 
so  subtle  ;  sin  is  not  more  deceitful,  nor  Satan  more 
treacherous.  In  ambition  she  surpasses  Caesar,  and 
in  assumption  of  "  power  to  save  and  to  destroy  "  she 
rivals  God! 

It  may  most  legitimately  be  asked  :  What  benefit  did 
Saint  Patrick's  mission  confer  upon  the  Irish  people  ? 
For  thirteen  hundred  years  the  "  leaven  "  which  he 
"  hid  in  the  measure  of  meal "  has  been  working,  and 
in  the  midst  of  us,  to-day,  we  witness  the  eifects.  The 
people  upon  whom  he  worked  thirteen  hundred  years 
ago  have  their  descendants  in  our  cities  to-day. 
These  call  him  "  Father"  and  "  Saint,"  What  must 
they  have  been  when  he  began  to  improve  them,  lift 
them,  civilize  them,  teach  them  decency,  love  of  law, 
i  f  these  we  see  and  hear  are  the  improved  ones  ? 
If  these  be  the  civilized,  Christianized,  the  improved, 
uplifted,  what  must  have  been  the  uncivil!  zed,  unchris- 
tianized,  unimproved  ?  If,  by  the  evolutionary  proc- 
esses of  thirteen  hundred  years,  the  type  of  to-day 
is  the  result,  what  must  that  type  then  have  been? 


214:         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

From  what  a  deep  must  they  have  been  lifted  ?  From 
what  anarchy  must  they  have  been  translated  ? 

It  is  of  no  avail  to  tell  me  they  are  a  conquered 
people.  Who  conquered  them  ?  Why  did  they  sub- 
mit to  conquest  ?  Of  what  stuff  were  they  made 
that  they  so  readily  yielded  ?  No  one  could  have 
conquered  them  but  with  their  own  consent.  No 
one  could  have  enslaved  them  had  they  not  enslaved 
themselves.  There  was  no  unity  among  them  when 
the  Anglo-Norman  effected  a  footing  in  their  midst. 
It  was  clan  against  clan — monarch  against  monarch. 
It  was  perpetual  civil  war.  There  was  no  security 
for  property,  the  fruits  of  industry,  or  life.  The 
waste  of  life  was  most  shocking.  Even  the  Danes 
were  not  expelled  from  the  country.  Many  battles 
were  fought  between  the  natives  and  these  Norsemen ; 
but  the  Danes  held  Dublin,  Wexford,  Waterford,  in- 
termarried with  the  royal  and  other  families  of  the 
land,  and  aided  one  king,  not  unfrequently,  in  his 
attacks  upon  a  neighbor  king. 

There  is  much  to  be  done  even  yet  by  such  Chris- 
tian civilizers  as  Saint  Patrick  among  those  who  pro- 
fess to  venerate  the  great  evangelist.  Ireland  is  fa? 
from  being  a  "  Happy  Isle."  Her  sons  are  not  all 
saints.  Many  have  been  the  vicissitudes  through 
which  the  race  has  had  to  pass.  Even  of  those  who 
have  bidden  adieu  to  that  green  spot,  and  have  found 
a  new  home  in  this  fair  State,  not  all  have  entered 
into  rest.  Like  the  troubled  sea  are  many  of  them 
even  here,  where  there  is  utmost  liberty  for  their 
consciences,  their  thoughts,  and  their  tongues. 


SAINT  PATRICK.  215 

What  is  it  that  is  wrong  with  them  ?  Why  is  the 
ancient  spirit  of  turbulence  and  strife,  of  discord  and 
dissatisfaction,  perpetuated  ?  Are  they  under  a  curse  ? 
Have  they  incurred  a  doom  from  which  they  cannot 
free  themselves  ?  Why  is  it  that  they  persist  in  con- 
duct such  as  brings  the  blush  to  the  cheek  of  every 
thoughtful  Irishman  ?  May  it  not  be  that  the  rea- 
son is  to  be  partly  found  in  the  diet  upon  which  they 
have  for  generations  fed  ?  Oliver  Twist's  disease  was 
not  "  madness,"  Mr.  Bumble,  the  Beadle,  tells  us  :  no, 
it  was  "  meat"  May  not  this  be  as  near  the  solution  of 
the  matter  as  any  other  reason  given  ?  "  Upon  what 
meat  doth  this  our  Cassar  feed  that  he  hath  grown 
so  fat  ? "  asks  Cassius,  concerning  "  the  noblest  Roman 
of  them  all."  Nations  are  largely  influenced  by  what 
they  live  on.  What  can  you  expect  from  races  that 
live  on  blubber,  oil,  andxtallow  candles?  What  can 
you  expect  from  races  that  live  on  yams,  cocoanut, 
and  fat  missionary  ?  What  can  you  expect  from  races 
who  eat  an  ox  half  raw,  and  never  leave  him  while 
there  is  a  shred  of  flesh  on  his  bones ;  and  then  drink 
Kaffir  beer,  and  lie  down  and  sleep,  and  wake  up  and 
smoke,  and  know  not  when  they  shall  again  have  an- 
other meal ;  and  when  hungry  buckle  their  belts  another 
hole  tighter,  and  still  another  hole  tighter,  as  hunger 
gnaws  them  and  famine  starves  them — even  as  tribes 
in  South  Africa  do  ?  What  may  you  not  expect  from 
a  nation  that  lives  on  plentiful  beer,  plum-pudding, 
and  roast  beef  ?  And  what  can  y^ou  expect  from  a 
people  whose  meat  and  drink  for  centuries  have 
been  pig,  "  potheen,"  and  potatoes — especially  potatoes 


216         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  "  potheen  ? "  Here  you  have  the  philosophy  of 
Irish  unrest,  vituperation,  thunder-and-lightning  har- 
angues, fire  and  pillage  and  blood  resolutions.  'Tis 
the  result  of  their  diet.  Had  their  daily  bill  of  fare 
been  different  during  the  centuries  past,  such  were 
not  now  the  deplorable  condition  of  affairs. 

It  was  a  drearily  sad  day  for  the  Irish  race  when 
Sir  Walter  Ealeigh  landed  in  Youghal  with  his  sack 
of  Virginia  potatoes.  He  introduced  the  plague  into 
Ireland.  The  first  new  Irish  potato  eaten  by  a  Celtic 
lady  in  Ireland  was  simply  a  repetition  of  the  scene 
in  Paradise  :  "And  when  the  woman  saw  that  the  fruit 
was  good  for  food,  and  pleasant  to  the  eyes,  and  a  thing 
to  be  desired  to  make  one  wise,  she  did  eat,  and  gave  to 
her  husband,  and  he  did  eat ;  and  the  eyes  of  them  both 
were  opened ; "  and  thence  "  death  and  all  our  woes." 
The  potato  in  the  garden  in  Youghal  was  the  forbid- 
den fruit  to  Ireland.  She  has  never  recovered  from 
the  fatal  effects  of  that  first  dish  of  new  potatoes  ! 

Strange  that  vegetable  diet  should  have  played  such 
a  fatally  destructive  part  in  human  history.  It  was 
a  vegetable  that  introduced  sin — the  fruit  of  the  for- 
bidden tree.  It  was  a  vegetable  that  o'ercame  the 
second  father  of  our  race,  and  occasioned  the  first 
curse,  under  whose  ban,  as  some  thought  of  it,  slavery 
was  deemed  a  just  and  righteous  thing :  Noah  sinned 
by  drinking  himself  drunk  with  the  fruit  of  the 
vine ;  Ham,  Canaan,  negro  slavery,  war,  lust,  hypoc- 
risy, followed  affcer.  "What  fills  our  jails — feeds  our 
gibbets — crowds  our  mad -houses  —  debauches  our 
homes — softens  brains — digs  suicidal  graves  ?  The 


SAINT  PATRICK.  217 

chemically  transformed  extract  of  a  vegetable — whis- 
ky !  What  is  one  of  the  growing  evils  of  this  city, 
of  this  State,  of  this  country — corrupting,  debasing, 
debilitating  our  youth,  our  men  and  women?  The 
extract  of  a  vegetable — the  poppy ;  that  extract, 
opium !  And  tobacco  is  but  another  instance.  But 
perhaps  you  never  until  now  thought  of  attributing 
many  of  the  miserable  characteristics  of  the  Irishman, 
here  and  elsewhere,  to  his  vegetable  diet — the  potato. 
What  is  the  explanation  of  the  special  trouble  in  the 
midst  of  us  to-day  ?  It  is  largely  to  be  traced  to  your- 
selves, O  American  people !  Your  great  republican 
system  of  government  is  too  far  in  advance  of  poor 
potato-eating  Ireland.  To  wisely  bear  the  burden  of 
citizenship  under  such  a  government  demands  a  very 
noble  type  of  mental  and  moral  manhood.  Not  to 
childhood  should  such  a  responsibility  be  intrusted ; 
not  to  boyhood  should  it  be  committed.  It  requires  a 
good  conscience  and  an  honest  heart,  but  it  also  de- 
mands a  soundly  educated  understanding  and  a  will 
•well-drilled  in  self-government,  rightly  to  use,  without 
abusing,  your  grand  institutions.  We  fathers  do  not 
intrust  our  purses  to  our  children ;  nor  place  at  their 
unchecked  service  our  revolvers  and  our  razors.  You 
do  not  allow  your  American-born  and  educated  sons 
the  right  of  the  franchise  until  they  are  twenty-one 
years  old.  Why  do  you  treat  the  overgrown  children 
-of  Ireland  with  the  trust  you  deny  your  own  children 
until  they  have  reached  manhood  ?  Why  not  compel 
the  untrained,  impulsive,  hot-headed  natives  of  the 
land  of  bogs  and  floods  to  wait  until  something  like 


218         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  intellectual  manhood  of  twenty-one  years  shall 
have  been  attained  by  them  ? 

You  kill  us  with  your  excess  of  kindness.  You  are 
too  good,  too  generous.  The  ignorant  Irishman  is 
puzzled  and  perplexed  to  know  how  to  act  in  his  effort 
to  use  his  suddenly  acquired  wealth  of  political  power. 
At  home  he  has  no  voice  in  the  choice  of  his  landlord ; 
he  has  no  voice  in  the  choice  of  his  priest.  His  duty  is 
to  do  what  he  is  told,  asking  no  questions  for  con- 
science' sake.  And  all  at  once  he  finds  himself  here 
able  to  black-ball  the  nominee  for  Governor,  Senator, 
President.  He  is  "A  biger  (sic)  man  than  old  Grant." 

What  can  be  expected  from  such  a  sudden  leap  out 
of  a  state  of  pupilage,  under  the  absolute  will  of 
landlord  and  priest,  into  the  maturity  of  your  noble 
freedom  ?  The  troubles  of  this  State  need  never  have 
been  had  men  but  loved  their  country  as  wisely  as 
themselves.  You  fill  to  the  brim  the  goblet  of  political 
privilege  with  the  strong  wine  of  republican  liberty  ; 
you  place  it  in  the  hands  or  raise  it  to  the  mouths  of 
my  unprepared  countrymen;  and  the  liquor  is  of 
flavor  so  delicious  that  when  once  their  parched  lips 
touch  it  they  empty  the  flowing  bowl !  And  before 
they  or  you  know  it  they  are  drunk  with  this  new 
wine.  Nor  need  I  tell  you  the  madness  produced  by 
drunkenness. 

Yes,  sirs ! — those  of  my  isle  who  have  brought  the 
scorching  blush  to  our  cheeks  are  simply  suffering 
from  the  delirium  tremens  resulting  from  your  strong 
drink  of  liberty !  They  are  not  able  to  bear  it. 
Whether  they  are  on  their  feet  or  on  their  heads 


SAIXT  PATRICK.  219 

they  scarce  can  tell.  They  are  only  partially  responsi- 
ble for  their  deeds.  But  others  who  know  better  are 
responsible ;  their  priests  are ;  your  politicians  are ;  the 
press  is — yes,  the  press  must  be  held  accountable  be- 
fore the  great  white  throne  of  American  civilization 
for  its  most  selfish,  its  most  sordid,  its  most  mercenary 
conduct  throughout  all  this  sad  carnival  of  blasphemy. 
It  has  lifted  the  demagogue  into  the  rank  of  a  hero. 
It  has  become  the  clarion  to  which  the  demagogue 
has  put  his  lips,  and  which  voiced  his  hideous  howl- 
ings  over  the  continent.  Aided  by  the  press  the 
demagogue,  having  shaken  his  dice-box,  has  fancied 
he  heard — thunder.* 

The  true  method  of  celebrating  Saint  Patrick's 
Day  is  worthy  of  a  few  remarks. 

He  best  keeps  in  memory  the  life  and  deeds  of  a 
good  and  great  man  who  best  copies  his  example  and 
emulates  his  deeds  of  goodness.  He  who  most  care- 
fully treads  in  the  footsteps  of  such  a  one,  and  per- 
petuates his  life  by  diffusing  benefits  akin  to  those 
conferred  by  his  patron  saint,  most  truly  keeps  his 
memory  green  and  fragrant ;  not  drowning  the  sham- 
rock in  whisky ;  not  filling  the  air  with  incendiary 
harangues;  not  fanning  the  flames  of  social  hatred, 
envy,  and  malice;  not  flinging  vile  epithets  at  the 
laws  and  constitution  of  the  new  country  in  which 

*  Reference  is  here  made  to  the  "  sand-lot "  agitation  in  San  Fran- 
cisco at  the  time  of  the  delivery  of  this  lecture.  Notwithstanding 
the  apparently  merely  local  interest  attached  to  this  passage  the  editor 
has  thought  best  to  retain  it  in  the  lecture,  as  illustrative  of  the 
author's  interest  in  the  burning  questions  of  the  hour. 


220         GUAED'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  generous  welcome  has  been  accorded  him ;  not  by 
conduct  against  which  Patrick  would  be  the  first  to 
utter  his  protest  and  denunciation. 

No,  sirs,  this  is  not  to  prove  one's  veneration  for  a 
man  than  whom  none  was  more  humble,  more  peace- 
loving,  more  prompt  to  be  all  things  to  all  men,  that 
he  might  uplift  and  save  them. 

But  however  faultily  it  may  have  been  shown,  this 
sentiment  of  veneration  may  well  win  from  us  all  an 
honest  and  hearty  appreciation.  Saint  Patrick's  Day 
may  seem  to  some  of  you  a  most  absurd  anniversary. 
But  can  you  not  see  in  it  the  homage  of  the  heart  to 
disinterested  and  self -sacrificing  goodness  ?  It  is  not 
an  ignoble  sentiment,  this  grateful  remembrance. 
You  may  laugh  at  the  Irish  Romanist,  and  pity  his 
superstition;  but  you  should  not  despise  the  senti- 
ment which  impels  him  to  venerate  the  great  evan- 
gelist to  whom  he  owes  his  Christian  faith.  Most 
unlike  his  patron  saint  the  Patrick  of  our  day  may 
be ;  yet  has  he  this  excellence :  in  theory  he  all  but 
adores  a  life  of  purity  and  of  consecration  to  the  weal 
of  others. 

Not  lust  of  power  impelled,  not  thirst  of  conquest 
urged,  not  greed  of  gold  inspired,  not  even  the  hunger 
of  the  soul  for  knowledge  actuated  the  great  Saint. 
But  rather  did  he  seek  the  uplifting  and  disenthrall- 
ment  of  conscience  from  guilt ;  of  will  from  depraved 
habit ;  of  heart  from  vile  affections ;  of  life  from  ra- 
pine and  lust.  He  offered  to  the  sinner  a  Divine 
Saviour;  to  the  sorrowing  a  Divine  Comforter;  to 
the  poor  a  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  brother ; 


SAINT  PATRICK.  221 

to  the  bereaved  the  hope  of  blissful  reunion  ;  to  the 
dying  the  assurance  of  an  immortality  of  growth  in 
rapture,  wisdom,  purity. 

Yonder  the  august  yet  unambitious  form  stands 
out  against  the  background  of  the  ages !  Through 
the  mists  of  thirteen  centuries  reverent  eyes  still  gaze 
upon  the  brave,  heroic  missionary,  teacher,  and  saint ; 
his  hands  uplifted  in  benediction  upon  the  people  of 
his  loving  care  and  paternal  counsel ! 

If  humility,  which  clothed  him  as  a  garment ;  if 
prayer,  which  was  the  habit  of  his  life  and  the  atmos- 
phere of  his  spirit ;  if  study  of  the  Holy  Scriptures, 
constant,  earnest,  and  practical;  if  unwearying  efforts 
to  make  men  Godlike  by  leading  them  to  Christ  and 
training  them  in  faithful  living ;  if  a  life  of  daily 
dedication  to  the  glory  of  the  unseen  but  ever-present 
Father,  and  of  daily  consecration  to  the  immortal 
interest  of  the  visible  and  ever-present  sons  of  men — 
if  all  these  can  make  a  man  good,  or  prove  him  to  be 
one  of  the  saints  or  excellent  of  the  earth,  then  Saint 
Patrick  ranks  with  the  most  honored  and  honorable 
of  the  noble  army  and  the  goodly  fellowship ! 

To  me  it  matters  not  what  name  he  bears — what 
the  ecclesiastical  origin  of  his  mission — what  the 
Church  claiming  him  as  her  son  and  chief.  Perish , 
all  such  miserable  narrowness  and  bigotry  as  would 
deprive  me  of  the  honor  of  claiming  a  spiritual  kinship 
with  him,  and  rendering  him  the  honest  and  profound 
homage  of  my  head  and  heart !  Such  men  belong  to 
no  sect ;  they  belong  to  humanity.  The  world  claims 
them  as  common  property,  for  they  are  common 


222         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

benefactors.  Broader  than  sect,  broader  than  race, 
broader  than  nationality,  as  the  ages  roll  on,  the  cathe- 
dral in  which  they  shall  find  a  shrine  shall  be  not 
that  built  up  of  Celtic  hearts,  Romanist  believers, 
alone,  but  built  up  of  a  love  from  all  kindreds  and 
peoples  and  nations  and  tongues ;  in  which  a  Starr 
King  and  a  Bunyan,  a  Knox  and  a  Luther,  a  Wesley 
and  a  Patrick  shall  find  co-equal  veneration  and  co 
eternal  brotherhood  1 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  223 


THE    LAW    OF    INHERITANCE:    PHYSICAL, 
MENTAL,  AND  MORAL* 


subject  is  one  of  much  fascination  ;  nor  does 
JL  it  lack  instruction  ;  nor  is  it  deficient  in  practical 
application  and  import.  Indeed,  the  topic  is  one 
which  must  have  formed  a  subject  of  serious  study 
and  remark  to  every  sober-minded,  reflective  observer 
of  human  nature.  It  is  a  subject  that  touches  every 
one  of  us,  as  may  be  seen  in  the  after  discussion  of  it. 

It  appeals  to  us  as  to  those  who  are  responsible  for 
the  government  of  themselves.  It  appeals  to  us  as  to 
those  who  are,  to  a  certain  extent,  responsible  for  the 
well-being  of  others.  It  appeals  to  us  as  citizens  of 
time.  It  appeals  to  us  as  candidates  for  a  blissful 
immortality.  And  if  "  the  proper  study  of  man- 
kind is  man,"  then  in  the  circle  of  this  most  illustrious 
science  the  segment  of  the  circle  marked  off  by  the 
title  of  our  evening's  lecture  can  neither  be  over- 
looked nor  depreciated  with  impunity. 

The  life  of  the  human  race  is  a  successively  de- 
veloped fact.  We  can  conceive  it  to  have  been  other- 
wise ordered. 

*  A  k-ctiire  written,  with  exception  of  a  few  interpolations,  in 
South  Africa,  a  few  mouths  previous  to  the  author's  visit  to 
America  in  1871. 


224         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Sum  up  the  myriad  millions  that  have  successively 
appeared  upon  this  planet  since  the  first  progenitor 
trod  its  soil ;  and  instead  of  demanding  so  many  re- 
volving cycles  for  their  appearance  in  time,  we  can 
imagine  their  contemporaneous  appearance.  Each 
one  of  the  vast  total  would  thus  come  immediately 
into  being,  owing  his  existence  to  none  of  his  fellows, 
and  tracing  his  origin  directly  to  the  omnipotent 
Creator.  Perhaps  thus  angelic  creatures  came  forth 
from  non-existence  into  that  fair  and  luxuriant  state 
in  which,  we  are  told,  they  live  and  move. 

Then  the  relations  subsisting  between  the  myriad 
millions  of  men  must  be  that  of  contemporaries  pos- 
sessing the  elemental  properties  of  a  common  human- 
ity, displaying  infinitely  diversified  endowments  and 
capable  of  an  equally  varied  mutual  influence. 

Influence  each  other  they  must ;  they  could  not 
avoid  it.  It  were  as  possible  to  hinder  star  influen- 
cing star,  and  atom,  atom,  or  mountain,  clouds,  or 
forests  the  atmosphere,  as  to  prevent  each  member 
of  the  co-existent  population  of  our  orb  influencing 
every  other  member ;  each  influencing  all,  and  all  in- 
fluencing each. 

But  the  human  race,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  is  a  propa- 
gated, and,  therefore,  successively  existing,  race.  In 
its  history  father  and  son,  parentage  and  filiation,  are 
terms  of  significance  and  expressive  of  the  divine  law, 
in  accordance  with  which  population  multiplies,  the 
waste  places  of  the  earth  become  inhabited,  and  the 
wilderness  rejoices  and  blossoms  as  the  rose. 

We,  therefore,  meet  with  not  only  a  contemporary 


THE  LAW  OF  IMIKKITAACE.  225 

relationship  akin  to  that  sustained  by  the  imaginary 
population  referred  to,  but  the  much  more  intimately 
blended  relationship  of  parent  and  offspring — a  rela- 
tionship of  transmission — in  one  word,  of  inheritance. 

We  influence  each  other  as  angels  do ;  and  we  also 
influence  each  other  as  only  those  can  who  are  depend- 
ent absolutely  for  their  existence  upon  those  who  have 
existed  before  themselves. 

Here  I  may  be  permitted  to  observe  that,  in  the 
twofoldness  of  our  capacity  of  relation  and  influence, 
we  link  together  angelic  life  above  with  all  forms  of 
life  below  and  around  us.  We  diffuse  our  influence 
over  the  broad  surface  of  the  human  life  that  exists  in 
the  same  age ;  we  transmit  our  influence  down  the 
sloping  ages  of  the  future,  as  we  have  inherited  from 
the  descending  ages  that  have  preceded  us.  Past, 
present,  future  are  centered  in,  and  controlled  by,  the 
human  race.  We  are  heirs,  we  are  sovereigns  of  the 
ages ! 

We  are  thus  prepared  for  the  consideration  of  the 
law  of  inheritance,  to  which  my  topic  solicits  your 
attention. 

It  is  not  within  the  purpose  of  my  scheme  of 
thought  to  criticise  the  Antiquity  of  Man,  or  the  Ori- 
gin of  Man,  or  the  Unity  of  Man.  I  am  aware  that 
such  themes  touch  upon  that  which  I  have  chosen, 
and  that  they  are  exciting  interest  in  the  scientific 
world  of  to-day.  ^Nevertheless,  the  temptation  to 
dilate  upon  them  must  be  sternly  resisted. 

The  law  of  inheritance  co-operates  with  a  law 
known  as  the  law  of  variety.  The  first  secures  the 


226           GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

immutability  of  the  species.  The  second  imparts 
diversity  to  that  species  and  secures  its  adaptation  to 
the  changing  conditions  of  life,  as  well  as  adds  agree- 
ableness  and  pleasantness  to  what  might  be  monoton- 
ous sameness.  The  law  of  inheritance  transmits  the 
type  of  the  flower,  the  animal,  the  man.  The  law  of 
variety  introduces  differences  of  tint  in  the  shrub,  of 
contour  in  the  animal,  and  of  color  in  the  man. 

When,  by  the  law  of  variety,  a  peculiar  modifica- 
tion of  the  type  takes  place,  say  a  higher  excellence 
or  a  deficiency,  this  becomes  transmitted  through  one 
or  more  generations  by  the  law  of  inheritance ;  and? 
if  care  be  taken  to  select  specimens  in  which  the  "  va- 
riety "  occurs,  that  "  variety  "  may  become  "  fixed  " 
and  almost  ineradicable.  Indeed,  Darwin  says  it  will 
become  a  new  species  altogether.  The  "  variety  "  may 
be  introduced  by  accident,  or  by  intention,  the  result 
of  observation — as  in  the  case  of  Jacob  and  the  flocks 
of  Laban,  and  as  in  the  case  of  breeders  of  poultry,  of 
pigeons,  of  dogs,  of  swine,  of  horses,  and  other  domes- 
ticated animals ;  and  also  by  horticulturists.  But 
whether  accidentally  or  intentionally,  once  introduced, 
the  "  variety "  comes  under  the  operation  of  the  law 
of  inheritance,  and  descends  as  an  heirloom  to  succes- 
sive members  of  the  species. 

The  union  of  male  and  female  must  tend  to  modify 
the  characteristics  of  offspring.  The  qualities  of  the 
dam  mingle  in  the  blood  of  the  child  with  those  of 
the  sire.  Some  have  fancied  it  possible  to  say  what 
part  of  the  constitution  descends  from  each  parent 
— the  mental  or  the  emotional,  the  moral  or  the  appe- 


THE  LAW  OF  IXHEBITAXCE.  227 

titive,  the  locomotive  or  the  digestive,  the  nervous  or 
the  muscular  portion  of  the  complex  being.  This 
has  not  jet  gained  the  certainty  of  a  law  of  science 
in  physiology ;  nevertheless,  it  is  worthy  of  and  has 
secured  the  attention  and  study  of  statisticians,  some 
of  whom  attempt  to  prove  that  the  sexes  in  a  human 
family  are  regulated  by  a  law  dependent  upon  the 
relative  ages  of  husband  and  wife.  There  is,  doubt- 
less, some  such  law  governing  this  matter ;  though,  as 
yet,  much  mystery  enfolds  it,  which  careful  and  con- 
tinued study  and  comparison  will,  perhaps,  dispel. 

The  law  of  inheritance  obtains  striking  illustration 
in  the  permanency  of  the  traits  of  physical,  mental, 
and  moral  nature  distinguishing  the  primary  divisions 
of  the  human  family.  These  divisions  have  had,  among 
many  others,  a  threefold  classification  and  a  fivefold. 

Dr.  Darwin,  in  his  "  Descent  of  Man,"  says : 
"  There  is  the  greatest  possible  diversity  of  opinion 
among  capable  judges  whether  he  (man)  should  be 
classed  as  a  single  species  or  race,  or  as  two,  three,  four, 
five,  six,  seven,  eight,  eleven,  fifteen,  sixteen,  twenty- 
two,  sixty,  or  as  sixty-three." 

There  is  the  classification  of  Cuvier  and  Pritchard, 
founded  upon  the  skull  and  face,  the  cranial  and  phys- 
iognomical : 

1.  The   oval-shaped   head   and   straight   features: 
Caucasian. 

2.  The  pyramid-shaped  head,  flat  face,  and   high 
cheekbone :  Mongolian. 

3.  The  prognathous,  retreating  forehead,  project- 
ing jaw :  !Negro. 

16 


228         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

There  is  the  classification  founded  upon  color  of 
skin  and  hair : 

1.  The  Xanthous  :  fair  or  sandy  or  golden  haired. 

2.  The  Melanous :  dark,  long  haired. 

3.  The  Leucous :  white  skin  and  hair,  red  eyes ;  etc. 
There  is  Blumenbach's  classification,  founded  chief- 
ly upon  cranial  conformation : 

1.  The  Caucasian. 

2.  The  Mongolian. 

3.  The  Ethiopian. 

4.  The  Malay. 

5.  The  American. 

This  latter  division  is  confirmed  by  a  somewhat 
similar  classification  of  the  languages  of  mankind : 

1.  There  is  the  Indo-European,  connecting  Latin, 
Greek,    Anglo-Saxon    into    one    common    root,   the 
Sanskrit  of  India. 

2.  There  is  the  Semitic,  comprising  the  Hebrew, 
the  Aramaic,  the  Arabic,  the  Ethiopic. 

3.  There  is  the  Turanian,  comprising  the  languages 
of  Higli  Asia,  and  of  parts  of  Northern  Europe  ;  also 
the  whole  American  family,  as  well  as  the  Papuan 
and  Polynesian. 

4.  There  is  the  monosyllabic   Chinese   and  Indo- 
Chinese,  possessing  affinities  with  Burmese,  Tibetan 
and  Mongolian. 

5.  There  is  the  fifth  group,  embracing  the  lan- 
guages   of  the  great  region   of  Central  Negroland, 
which  are   found   to    possess  affinities    which   place 
them  in  relation  to  the  Semitic  group. 

These  races  have  perpetuated  their  characteristics 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  220 

through  a  prodigious  period  and  despite  many  in- 
fluences unfavorable  to  the  preservation  of  their 
identity. 

Take  the  color  of  the  Negro  and  his  features.  These 
have  been  transmitted,  from  generation  to  generation, 
since  3700  before  the  birth  of  Christ.  The  monuments 
of  Egypt  testify  to  this  ;  on  them  are  still  found  the 
cranial  and  facial  conformations,  the  complexion  and 
the  color  of  hair,  which  to  this  day  characterize  the 
children  of  Ham.*  The  record  of  stone  is  not  more 
remarkable  as  an  evidence  of  the  transmitted  qualities 
of  a  race  than  confirmatory  of  the  assertion  that  the 
Negro  mind,  when  cultured  and  developed,  when 
freed  from  superstition  and  from  the  tyranny  of  des- 
pots, possesses  powers  capable  of  no  unsuccessful  ri- 
valry with  the  races  of  fairer  or  less  dusky  hue.  They 
have  a  noble  ancestry,  though  they  are  now  but  the 
wild  and  untrained  offshoots  of  a  stem  that  was  once 
proudly  luxuriant  in  the  fruits  of  learning  and  taste. 
Nor  is  Africa  without  her  heraldry  of  science  and  of 
fame.  The  only  probable  age  which  can  be  given 
of  the  Negro  tribes  is:  that  Africa  was  peopled 
through  Egypt  by  three  of  the  descendants  of  Ham — 

*  See  "  Races  of  Man  and  their  Geographical  Distribution,"  by 
Oscar  Peschel.  Also,  Brngsch's  "  History  of  Egypt  under  the  Pha- 
raohs," in  which  he  says:  "The  groat  mixture  of  tribes  in  manv 
branches  who  had  their  primeval  homes  in  the  wide  region  and  marshy 
districts  of  the  Upper  Nile,  from  the  Egyptian  frontier  at  the  first  cata- 
ract, (close  to  the  city  of  Syene,)  have  on  the  monuments  the  common 
name  of  Xahasa.  In  the  colored  representations  they  appear  of  a  black 
or  dark  brown  complexion,  with  unmistakable  Negro  features.  There 
can  be  no  doubt  that  we  have  to  recognize  in  tfiem  the  ancestors  of  the 
Negro  race  of  the.  present  day" 


230         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Cush,  Mizraim,  and  Put.  They  found  Egypt  a  morass 
and  converted  it  into  the  most  fertile  country  of  the 
world ;  they  reared  its  pyramids,  invented  its  hiero- 
glyphics, and  gave  letters  to  Greece.  The  everlast- 
ing architecture  still  remains,  the  wonder  of  the  world, 
though  in  ruins.  Her  mighty  dynasties  have  yet 
their  record  in  history.  She  has  poured  forth  her 
heroes  on  the  field,  given  bishops  to  the  Church  and 
martyrs  to  the  fires.  And  as  for  Negro  physiognomy, 
as  if  that  should  shut  out  the  light  of  intellect,  go  to 
your  national  museum,  contemplate  the  features  of 
the  colossal  head  of  Memnon,  and  the  statues  of  the 
divinities  on  which  the  ancient  Africans  impressed 
their  own  forms,  and  there  see,  in  close  resemblance 
to  the  Negro  features,  the  mold  of  those  countenances 
which  once  beheld,  as  the  creatures  of  their  own  im- 
mortal genius,  the  noblest  and  most  stupendous  monu- 
ments of  human  skill  and  taste  and  grandeur. 

In  the  imperishable  porphyry  and  granite  is  the 
unfounded  and  pitiful  slander  publicly  and  before  all 
the  world  refuted. 

In  the  Jew  we  find  another  instance  confirmatory 
of  the  law  of  inheritance.  The  earliest  records  prove 
him  to  have  been  the  same  in  their  day  as  he  is  now. 
The  beauty  of  Sarah  still  adorns  her  daughters.  The 
subtle  skill  of  Jacob  in  taking  care  of  his  own  finan- 
cial interests  and  outwitting  Laban  still  confronts 
us  in  the  mart  of  commerce  and  in  the  "  struggle 
for  existence  "  on  "Wall-street.  The  power  of  state- 
craft winning  for  its  owner  supremacy  over  a 
strange  people,  compelling  haughty  Egypt  to  bow 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  231 

to  the  fiats  of  the  alien  Joseph,  lives  in  the  Jew 
Gambetta  and  shines  with  meteoric  splendor  in  the  ro- 
mantic career  of  Lord  Beaconsfield ;  while  their  love 
of  jewels,  of  silver  and  gold,  and  of  song,  burns  with 
a  flame  as  steady  to-day  as  when  they  spoiled  the 
Egyptians,  and  sang  the  song  of  Moses  upon  the 
shores  of  the  Red  Sea.  , 

The  Celt  is,  to-day,  what  history  tells  he  was  2000 
years  ago.  Whether  met  with  in  France,  in  Wales,  in 
Ireland,  the  pure  Celt  is  still  sensuous,  sensitive,  quick, 
tmsteady.  Full  of  fire,  of  wit,  of  eloquence ;  hasty  in 
temper,  impatient  of  toil,  unequal  to  self-government ; 
brave,  and  quick  to  quarrel ;  vain,  and  fond  of  display ; 
with  little  pertinacity,  but  capable  of  extraordinary 
efforts ;  liable  to  excessive  discouragement  and  im- 
measurable elation;  intelligent,  apt,  credulous,  and 
easily  ruled  by  his  priesthood;  seeking  wealth  by 
plunder  rather  than  by  slow  means — his  is  a  people 
who  fill  the  history  of  the  past  with  the  glory  of  their 
conquests,  but  who  found  no  permanent  state,  and 
who  are  never  willing  to  submit  long  to  their  own 
constituted  authority.*  See  a  remarkable  proof  of 
this  law  of  inheritance  in  race  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Galatians — a  Celtic  people,  every  trait  of  whose  char- 
acter is  hinted  at  by  the  writer.  It  might  have  been 
written  of  the  same  race  to  day. 

The  English  nation — the  Anglo-Saxon — is  an  em- 
bodiment of  the  qualities  of  those  races  or  families  by 
whom  England  has  been  successively  occupied  and 
conquered.  There  is  Celtic  blood,  hence  wit  and 

*  Brace's  "  Races  of  the  Old  World." 


232         GTJAED'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDEESSES. 

valor  and  eloquence ;  there  is  Norman  blood,  hence 
dignity  and  chivalry ;  there  is  Danish  blood,  hence 
hardihood  and  love  of  the  sea  ;  there  is  German  blood, 
hence  love  of  order,  pertinacity  of  purpose,  high  es- 
teem for  women,  love  of  land  and  reverence  for  re- 
ligion and  for  law ;  besides,  there  is  Jewish  blood, 
hence  love  of  commerce ;  there  is  Roman  blood, 
hence  love  of  power,  of  conquest,  of  colonization. 
And  if  there  be  any  other  blood  which  contains  any 
element  of  greatness,  no  doubt  that,  too,  might  be, 
yea,  must  be,  found  commingled  in  that  race  which  its 
members  believe  to  be  destined  to  the  sovereignty  of 
the  world. 

Rather,  perhaps,  are  these  elements  found  in  the 
Anglo-American  race.*  This,  after  all,  is  only  Anglo- 
Saxon,  resuscitated,  replenished,  renovated  by  an  in- 
fusion of  blood  from  the  most  vigorous  portions  of 
the  Teutonic  European. 

There  is  Anglo-Saxon  ;  there  is  Scandinavian  ;  there 
is  Hollander ;  there  is  High  German ;  there  is  Scotch 
Celt ;  there  is  Irish  Celt ;  there  is  the  compound  of 
Anglo-Saxon  and  Celt.  And  there  is  the  choicest 
extract  of  all  these  ;  choicest  as  to  energy,  vigor,  dar- 
ing, resoluteness.  There  is  also  a  large  proportion  of 
restlessness,  insubordination,  lawlessness,  hatred  of 
antique  customs,  contempt  for  precedent,  for  mon- 
archy, for  caste.  And  these  all  combine  to  form  a 
positively  new  race,  inheriting  the  distinctive  pecul- 
iarities of  the  best  of  the  Teutonic  and  Celtic  and 
Latin  tribes  of  the  Old  World ;  and  under  fairest, 

*This  was  written  previous  to  the  author's  coming  to  America. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  233 

widest,  and  most  auspicious  conditions  we  see  tliis 
race  putting  forth  titanic  powers,  marching  with 
giant  strides  from  east  to  west  of  the  magnificent 
continent  occupied  by  it,  and  big  with  the  belief 
that  to  it  America,  from  pole  to  pole,  must  ulti- 
mately pass,  and  by  it  the  destinies  of  humanity  be 
controlled. 

Just  here  Darwin's  "  selection  of  species "  obtains 
marked  illustration.  The  "  struggle  for  existence  "  in 
the  nations  of  the  old  continent  and  the  mother 
country  has  resulted  in  the  going  forth  of  the  hardi- 
est and  most  self-reliant,  and  through  them  the  forma- 
tion of  what  they  themselves  are  wont  to  deem  the 
last  and  choicest  result  of  time,  in  the  great  American 
people.  They  are  distinct  from  all  others.  With 
length  of  hair,  amplitude  of  cranium,  opulence  of  limb 
and  shoulder,  affluence  of  sinew  and  muscle,  they  are 
made  to  push  onward,  as  their  wedge-shaped  head  and 
cruciform  features  indicate;  and  with  every  variety 
of  climate,  every  species  of  production,  vegetable  and 
animal,  every  class  of  mineral,  in  a  land  touching  two 
oceans,  intersected  by  rivers  that  are  seas  in  ceaseless 
flow — what  may  not  be  predicted  of  such  a  people  ? 
They  needed  one  thing  to  perfect  them ;  and  that  came 
in  due  time :  the  fire  of  a  great,  common,  sorrowful 
trial — civil  war.  This  knit  .them  into  a  firmer  com- 
pactness, and  lifted  them  into  a  loftier  zone  of  pur- 
pose and  feeling. 

They  inherit  the  elements  of  all  the  people  whose 
blood  mingles  in  their  complex  systems.  Perhaps  a 
keen  analyst  might  be  competent  for  the  exciting 


234         GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

task  of  detecting  the  presence  of  each  of  those  many 
peoples  in  the  existing  compound,  and  measuring  the 
proportion  which  each  has  contributed  to  the  erection 
of  the  unique  edifice. 

I  am  sure  I  detect  the  Irish  Celtic  element — if 
not  in  their  blood,  or  bones,  or  bloom,  or  breadth  of 
shoulder  and  of  brow  —  certainly,  in  the  oratorical 
effusions  which  now  and  then  are  poured  forth  in 
senate  hall  and  on  hamlet  stump. 

Coming,  as  I  do,  from  a  land  where  eloquence  is 
indigenous ;  from  the  land  of  Grattan  and  of  Flood, 
of  Burke  and  of  Curran,  of  Shiel  and  of  O'Counell,  in 
whose  orations  brilliancy  and  strength,  erudition  and 
logic,  imagination  and  philosophy,  tenderness  and 
sublimity,  sarcasm  and  invective,  all  united ;  it  may 
be  permitted  me  to  express  a  belief  that  I  can  detect 
some  traces  of  Celtic  genius  in  the  great  people  over 
the  water,  the  countrymen  of  Clay  and  Calhoun,  of 
Patrick  Henry  and  of  Wendell  Phillips  ;  but  I  fear 
I  must  in  truth  assert  that  there  is  a  sad  degeneracy 
in  such  whimsical  out-pourings  as  the  following : 

Fellow  citizens  and  horses,  hurrah !  There's  got  to  be  a  war. 
I'm  for  whipping  Great  Britain  right  off,  without  stopping  for 
compliments.  We  must  hustle  the  British  lion  heels  over  head 
out  of  the  everlasting  borders  of  this  here  western  continent. 
Hurrah  for  the  annexation  of  Canada!  We  must  have  the 
critter  heels  and  neck,  if  we  have  to  wade  in  blood  to  our 
knees  to  pull  it  from  the  horns  of  John  Bull.  We  must  do  it. 
Where's  the  'possum  whose  little  soul  don't  echo  them  senti- 
ments ?  He  aint  nowhere,  and  never  was.  Can't  you,  and  I, 
and  every  one  of  us,  rouse  up  the  wolf  of  human  nature  till 
he'll  paw  the  whole  of  Old  England  clear  down  below  the  low> 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  235 

•water  mark  ?  Yes,  sir-ee.  Every  citizen  of  this  tall  land — 
from  the  owl  on  the  hemlock  tub  to  the  president  in  his  great 
arm-chair  —  is  in  favor  of  this  all-thundering  and  liberty- 
spreading  measure !  Just  let  them  glorious  ideas  pop  into  the 
United  States'  cranium  rairly,  and  see  if  an  earthquake  shout 
from  26,000,000  of  India-rubber  lungs  don't  shake  the  whole 
earth,  crack  the  zenith,  and  knock  the  very  poles  over!  I  tell 
you  there  is  nothing  on  this  side  of  the  millennium  like  our 
own  everlasting  institution ;  for  you  can't  scrape  up  a  flock  of 
civilized  beings  on  the  face  of  the  universal  terra  firma  who 
know  so  well  how  to  defend  and  spread  them.  Where's  the 
Yankee  who  wont  vote  for  his  country  within  three-quarters  of 
an  inch  of  his  life,  if  it  tries  his  soul,  yes,  and  his  upper-leather, 
too  ?  What's  England  ?  Why,  it  aint  any  thing  at  all, 
scarcely.  Uncle  Sam  will  take  it  yet  for  a  handkerchief  to  blow 
his  nose  upon  when  he  gets  a  cold.  We  are  bound  to  wake  up 
snakes,  and  no  mistake.  Let  us  once  get  hold  of  the  job  in 
right  earnest,  with  all  of  Uncle  Sam's  boys,  and  if  we  don't 
dig  a  hole  as  deep  as  eternity  with  the  spades  of  Yankee  pluck, 
and  scum  the  grease  spots  off  the  face  of  the  world,  and  pitch 
them  clear  to  the  bottom  of  it,  then  I  am  no  two-legged  croc- 
odile. When  this  is  done,  you  will  set  the  great  roaring  eagle 
of  liberty  like  a  big  rooster  crowing  on  the  top  of  a  barrel. 
Why,  you  are  all  ready  and  primed  for  the  onset — all  you  want 
is  a  live  coal  or  two  of  fire  dropped  on  devoted  heads  to  touch 
you  off.  Methinks  the  flashes  of  fire  in  your  eyes  to-day  fore- 
bode blood  and  thunder — only  mind  you  don't  flash  in  the  pan ! 
If  you  all  do  your  bounden  duty  in  this  crisis,  you'll  sjnt  the 
tobacco  juice  of  determination  into  John  Bull's  eyes  till  he  has  the 
staggers,  when  you  can  take  him  by  the  tail  and  swing  him  beyond 
all  recollection  !  Rouse  ye,  rouse  ye,  to  the  rescue.  Let  the  shout 
penetrate  every  nook  and  cranny  in  North  America — from  the 
tip-top  of  the  Arctic  regions  clear  of  the  Straits  of  Giberaltar. 
Canada  and  the  United  States  forever!  begot  in  a  war-whoop, 
born  in  blood,  cradled  in  thunder,  and  brought  up  in  glory.* 

*  "  Man  ;  or  the  Old  and  New  Philosophy:  "  IUv.  B.  W.  Saville,  M.A. 


236         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

But  the  topic  of  racial  heredity  is  far  too  exten- 
sive and  suggestive  to  allow  of  more  than  cursory 

oo  */ 

mention. 

Let  us  now  trace  the  workings  of  the  law  of  inherit- 
ance in  the  individual  members  of  the  human  race. 
It  may  not  be  amiss  to  mention  the  opinions  which 
have  been  entertained  upon  this  question  by  eminent 
thinkers  of  the  past  and  present : 

First.  Plato,  first  of  Grecian  thinkers  in  the  sub- 
limity of  his  conceptions,  the  range  of  his  compre- 
hension, the  suggestiveness  of  his  theories,  entertained 
the  belief  that  the  soul  came  direct  from  the  gods. 
This  is  known  as  the  doctrine  of  pre-existence.  With 
him  thinking  was  chiefly  reminiscence,  the  re-awak- 
eiiing  of  ideas  and  notions  in  the  mind  that  had  been 
present  to  the  mind  in  a  prior  stage  of  being ;  when, 
as  yet,  the  mind  dwelt  in  the  Deity  with  whom  all 
ideas  originated.  This,  of  course,  forbids  the  action 
of  the  law  of  inheritance,  or  modifies  it  exceedingly 
as  to  the  mental  nature  and  constitution  of  man. 

Wordsworth,  first  of  modern  philosophic  poets, 
sympathized  with  this  theory,  and  embodied  it  in  one 
of  the  noblest  odes  in  the  English  language — his  "  Ode 
on  Intimations  of  Immortality  from  Recollections  of 
Early  Childhood."  One  stanza  is  well  known,  and 
is  that  in  which  he  has  voiced  his  sentiments  upon 
this  theory : 

Our  birtli  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting: 
The  soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 
And  cometh  from  afar ; 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  237 

Not  in  entire  forgetfulness, 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory  do  we  come 
From  God,  who  is  our  home: 
Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy! 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  boy. 
But  he  beholds  the  light,  and  whence  it  flows — 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy; 

The  youth,  who  daily  farther  from  the  east 
Must  travel,  still  is  Nature's  priest, 
And  by  the  vision  splendid 
Is  on  his  way  attended ; 
At  length  the  man  perceives  it  die  away, 
And  fade  into  the  light  of  common  day. 

Second.  There  were,  in  the  early  days  of  Chris- 
tianity, those  who,  having  pondered  these  themes, 
cherished  the  belief  that  it  was  not  given  to  man  to 
propagate  the  higher  principle  and  property  of  his 
nature — the  spiritual,  that  which  apprehends  truth, 
justice,  duty,  God ;  that  a  constant  creative  co-opera- 
tion between  Deity  and  man  took  place;  that  God 
creates  afresh  the  immaterial  and  immortal  principle 
of  our  nature ;  that  man  transmits  the  material,  the 
organic,  only. 

This  theory  has  had  not  a  few  able  and  gifted  sup- 
porters in  ancient  and  in  modern  days.  They  are 
known  as  "  Creationists." 

Third.  There  were,  and  still  are,  those  who  believed 
that  to  man  it  was  given  to  transmit  body,  soul,  and 
spirit  to  his  posterity,  without  any  special  and  imme- 
diate act  of  the  Deity.  These  see  no  more  difficulty 
in  transmitting  spirit  life  than  animal  life ;  and  in 
such  texts  as,  "  Adam  begat  a  son  in  his  own  image," 


238         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  "  God  rested  from  his  works,"  together  with  the 
oft-repeated  statements  respecting  the  native  sinf ill- 
ness of  humanity,  find  sufficient  scriptural  ground  for 
their  belief  that  man  is  the  parent  of  man  by  original 
Divine  appointment.  St.  Augustine,  one  of  the 
mightiest  thinkers,  and  most  philosophical  of  the 
fathers  of  the  Church,  inclined  to  this  idea.  The 
Romish  Church  also  entertains  it.  I  may  say,  also, 
that  it  is  my  own  opinion. 

It  will  be  at  once  perceived  that  these  theories  can- 
not but  modify  the  opinions  entertained  by  those  who 
hold  them,  as  to  the  range  of  the  action  of  the  law 
of  inheritance.  One  of  these  must  believe  that  only 
the  physical  is  inherited  ;  others,  that  the  physical  and 
psychical  are  transmitted — that  the  influence  of  the 
parent  extends  over  the  whole  nature  or  only  over  part. 

Fourth.  With  this  it  should  be  stated,  that  the 
metempsychosis  of  Pythagoras  and  the  Brahmin  must 
compel  those  who  believe  it  to  limit  the  influence  of 
parentage  over  offspring  to  the  material  portion  of 
the  child.  Take  a  leper.  He  must  have  sinned  hid- 
eously in  a  former  state  of  being ;  else  he  had  never 
been  doomed  to  such  a  horrid  condition  of  existence 
now.  Or  take  the  young  widow  of  fourteen  years  of 
age  who  has  never  lived  an  hour  with  her  betrothed. 
She  must  have  been  guilty  of  some  huge  offense  against 
the  gods ;  else  she  had  never  been  doomed  to  per- 
petual woe,  mourning,  serfdom,  and  contempt;  for 
she  is  an  accursed  object,  hated  by  the  gods,  despised, 
crushed  by  man,  for  the  crime  of  being  an  unwilling 
widow. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHEKITANCE.  239 

Fifth.  To  these  may  be  affixed  the  theories  of  those 
who  are  known  as  "  Transmutationists."  They  teach 
that  man  is  but  the  last  known  result  of  a  prolonged 
series  of  developments,  beginning  with  matter  uncon- 
scious and  unintelligent,  into  which,  by  some  physical 
means,  the  spark  of  life  was  struck,  and  that  then 
organic  being  began  in  vegetation ;  that  from  this, 
life  traveled  on,  on  and  up  into  animal  being,  in  the 
•form  of  some  simple  jelly-like  substance;  that  thence 
life  crept  on  through  mollusk  and  crustacean  into  fish, 
into  bird,  into  reptile ;  thence  along  an  all  but  inter- 
minable pathway  of  progress,  in  which  every  family, 
order,  class,  genus,  species,  variety  of  animal  existence, 
were  included,  until  man  appeared,  the  flower,  the 
fruit,  the  crown,  the  apex,  the  culmination,  the  god, 
or  any  other  name  by  whicli  you  can  describe  the  final, 
the  ultimate  end,  of  l>eing. 

The  theory  is  an  old  one.  It  has  often  been  revived 
after  centuries  of  dreary  entombment.  Frenchmen, 
Germans,  Scotchmen,  Englishmen,  have  successively 
summoned  it  from  its  sepulcher  and  its  cerements,  and 
loosed  and  let  it  go.  Lamarck  entertained  the  thought. 
The  "  Vestiges  of  Creation  "  made  it  popular.  The 
"  Origin  of  Species  "  has  ushered  it  once  more  into  the 
arena  of  science. 

As  propounded  in  the  "  Yestiges  of  Creation,"  and 
by  Darwin,  the  theory  is  not  atheistic.  Darwin  ac- 
knowledges a  Creator  and  a  creative  act  giving  exist- 
ence to  life,  for  he  denies  spontaneous  generation ;  but 
both  confine,  limit,  the  creative  act  to  the  formation 
of  the  earliest,  simplest,  lowest  form  of  life;  since 


2iO          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

which  God  has  never  interfered  with  his  creation, 
but,  having  dowered  the  initial  form  of  life  with  a 
capacity  of  developing  a  higher,  and  that  again  a 
higher,  and  so  on,  has  left  Nature  to  work  out  its  own 
potentialities  by  the  "  law  of  development ; "  until,  lo ! 
the  being  called  man,  with  all  his  endowments,  looms 
upon  the  horizon  of  time,  touches  the  earth  his  home, 
and  begins  his  mysterious  and  unique  career  of  unlim- 
ited and  endless  growth  in  knowledge,  wisdom,  and  joy. 

There  is  one  simple  and  small  difficulty  in  the  way 
of  our  acceptance  of  this  sublimely  comprehensive 
hypothesis ;  it  is  this :  that  no  man  has,  as  yet,  wit- 
nessed the  birth  of  an  animal  from  a  plant,  of  a  bird 
from  a  crab,  of  a  mammal  from  a  crow,  of  a  man  from 
a  monkey. 

Plants  have  been  seen  producing  plants;  crabs, 
crabs ;  hens,  chickens ;  eels,  eels ;  baboons,  their  de- 
lectable offspring ;  but  where  is  the  accoucheur  who 
has  ever  issued  his  bulletin  announcing  that : 

At  twenty  minutes  to  three  o'clock,  P.  M.,  Madame  Gorilla 
gave  birth  to  a  boy.  Mother  and  son  doing  well  ! 

Signed,  SAIREY  GAMP. 

Bodily  characteristics  are  inherited. 

Both  parents  unite  in  transmitting  such  character- 
istics to  their  offspring.  It  lias  been  suggested  that 
the  father  modifies  one  portion,  the  mother  another 
portion  of  the  frame — as  already  hinted. 

In  seeking  for  evidence  of  this,  lineage  must  not  be 
forgotten.  All  progenitors,  paternal  and  maternal, 
influence  the  living  offspring  of  the  present  genera- 
tion. Frequently  the  likeness  of  the  child  cannot  be 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  2-tl 

traced  to  either  father  or  mother,  yet  may  be  found 
in  the  grand-uncle  or  in  the  great-grandfather. 

Two  maiden  ladies  are  alive  in  England  *  of  gen- 
tle if  not  of  noble  birth,  altogether  unlike  any  of 
their  family  at  present  in  existence,  and  unlike  any  of 
their  ancestors  for  two  or  three  generations.  But 
there  is  a  well-preserved  oil  painting  of  a  member  of 
their  family,  some  two  hundred  years  old,  in  which 
the  most  striking  resemblance  to  the  ladies  is  at  once 
detected.  The  term  by  which  inheritance  thus  modi- 
fied is  described,  is  "Atavism."  It  cannot  be  ac- 
counted for;  nevertheless  it  cannot  be  denied  or 
questioned. 

The  House  of  Austria  is  distinguished  by  a  mal- 
formation known  as  the  "Hapsburg  lip."  Large, 
thick,  hairy,  it  was  introduced  into  the  family  by 
marriage  with  Mary  of  Burgundy,  three  hundred  years 
ago,  and  has  never  been  extirpated.  The  Hanover 
House  of  Guelph,  now  upon  the  English  throne,  in- 
herits a  blue  eye,  a  fair  complexion,  a  short  upper  lip. 
The  Bourbons  have  an  aquiline  nose. 

Gait,  gesture,  and  attitude,  are  hereditary.  Often 
entire  families  are  left-handed,  even  those  members 
who  have  been  withdrawn  from  them  in  infancy.  G. 
is  born  of  a  family  where  the  use  of  the  left  hand  is 
hereditary ;  he  is  not  left-handed  himself,  but  his  mar- 
ried daughter  is  so,  and  all  her  children  likewise ;  his 
son  is  married  and  has  a  daughter  in  the  cradle,  who 
is  left-handed  to  a  strongly  marked  degree. 

Fecundity  is  hereditary.     Giron  gives  a  remarkable 

«  1871. 


242         GTJAKD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

illustration  of  this.  One  mother  had  twenty -four  chil 
dren ;  of  these,  five  daughters  had  forty-six ;  one 
grand-daughter,  sixteen.  Even  the  power  of  produc- 
ing twins  may  be  an  inherited  one. 

Stature  is  hereditary.  Every  one  knows  the  efforts 
made  by  the  great  king  of  Prussia  to  obtain  a  regi- 
ment of  giants ;  by  what  fair  and  foul  means  he  con- 
trived to  tempt  giants  of  other  nations  to  enlist ;  to 
what  an  extent  he  pushed  his  fancy,  even  to  kidnap- 
ping. Travelers  were  waylaid  and  villages  infested 
with  recruiting  bandits.  An  Austrian  embassador  to 
George  II.,  on  his  way  through  Prussia  was  kidnapped 
because  of  his  size ;  nor  could  he  be  released  until  he 
had  produced  his  credentials.  From  home,  from 
trade,  from  Church,  were  men  haled  to  Potsdam.  To 
England,  Holland,  the  Tyrol,  the  Arno,  the  Pyrenees, 
even  to  Egypt  and  the  fairs  of  Asia,  were  emissaries 
sent  to  search  for  men  of  six  feet  and  upward.  No 
man  "was  safe  who  had  the  misfortune  to  be  born  with 
a  tendency  to  altitude  of  stature.  One  poor  carpenter 
of  six  feet,  good  Rhenish  measure,  was  requested  to 
make  a  cupboard  exactly  his  own  height.  The  chest 
was  no  sooner  brought  home  than  the  carpenter  was 
shut  down  in  it  and  carried  off  to  Berlin.  One  thou- 
sand thalers  were  paid  for  six-foot  men  ;  if  taller,  the 
price  was  raised.  Twelve  millions  were  thus  spent. 
The  most  expensive  bargain  was  one  Kirkland,  an 
Irishman,  to  whom  nine  thousand  thalers  were  paid 
to  induce  him  to  remain  in  the  king's  service.  He 
had  been  entrapped :  first  he  was  engaged  as  footman 
for  three  years,  then  handed  over  by  his  master,  the 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  243 

•» 

ambassador  to  England ;  lie  obtained  his  liberty,  finally, 
only  by  the  interference  of  the  English  Govern- 
ment. 

Well,  what  of  this?  What  but  an  elevation  of 
the  average  stature  of  the  Berlinese ;  for  these  tall 
men  intermarried  with  the  women  of  the  city  where, 
for  fifty  years,  the  guards  had  resided. 

Longevity  is  hereditary.  Large  numbers  of  cases 
confirmatory  of  this  have  been  gathered.  Near  the 
Ehone  lived  a  family  of  five  brothers  and  sisters, 
of  the  same  father  and  mother,  whose  aggregate  ages 
reached  four  hundred  and  thirty  years — the  eldest 
ninety-two,  and  the  others  following,  male  and  female 
alternately,  at  intervals  of  three  years  each.  Madame 
de  Montgolfier,  of  Paris,  lived  a  hundred  and  ten 
years,  retaining  her  vigor  to  the  last ;  and  her  chil- 
dren, the  youngest  of  whom  had  reached  fourscore, 
gathered  around  her  coffin.  A  well-known  literary 
character,  a  Frenchman,  M.  Quersoniere,  was  alive  in 
1842,  aged  one  hundred  and  fourteen,  in  perfect  en- 
joyment of  his  faculties.  He  said :  "  My  family 
descends  from  Methusaleh ;  we  must  be  killed  to  die ; 
my  maternal  grandfather  was  killed  by  an  accident 
when  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  years  of  age ;  and 
I,"  he  added,  smiling,  "  invite  you  to  my  burial  in  the 
next  century.'' 

These  facts  are  well  authenticated,  and  are  so  far 
relied  on  as  to  form  an  important  element  in  the  cal- 
culations of  the  actuaries  for  insurance  societies. 

Idiosyncracies  are  inherited. 

In  some  entire  families  the  slightest  amount  of 
17 


244          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

m 

opium  or  mercury  acts  as  a  virulent  poison.  In  one 
family,  named  by  Zimmerman,  coffee  produced  the 
effect  of  opium,  while  opium  was  inert.  Louis  XIV. 
was  voracious  and  gluttonous,  and  all  his  family  in- 
herited the  habit.  Disgust  to  animal  food  runs  in 
some  families  ;  in  others,  cheese  is  an  object  of  abhor- 
rence ;  while,  again,  an  unaccountable  propensity  to 
eat  human  flesh  has  been  noted.  One  case  is  named, 
by  Boethius,  of  a  young  girl,  whose  father  had  this 
horrible  propensity.  Father  and  mother  were  both 
burned  before  the  girl  was  a  year  old  ;  the  girl,  though 
brought  up  in  refinement  and  affluence,  yet  also  gave 
way  to  this  unnatural  practice. 

In  some  families  there  is  a  tendency  to  produce  six 
toes  and  six  fingers.  Lawrence  remarks  that,  were 
persons  so  distinguished  to  marry  only  those  of  like 
peculiarities,  within  a  given  time  a  permanent  race 
might  be  produced  possessing  this  number  of  toes 
and  fingers. 

The  porcupine  man  exhibited  before  the  Royal  So- 
ciety in  1731  was  a  remarkable  personage.  His  name 
was  Edward  Lambert.  His  whole  body  was  covered 
by  a  thick,  horny,  scaly,  or  bristly  integument,  rustling 
like  the  quills  of  a  hedgehog  shaven  within  an  inch 
of  the  skin.  He  was  then  fourteen.  Twenty-six 
years  after  he  was  in  good  health,  but  still  covered  as 
before.  He  had  twice  been  salivated,  and  once  had 
the  small-pox,  at  which  times  he  lost  his  covering, 
but  regained  it  quickly.  He  had  now  six  children, 
all  of  whom  were  similarly  robed ;  in  each  child  the 
integument  appearing,  as  with  the  father,  nine  weeks 


THE  LAW  OF  INHEEITANCE.  245 

after  birth.  Two  brothers,  John,  twenty-two,  Rich- 
ard, fourteen,  grandsons  of  the  original  porcupine 
gentleman,  were  shown  in  Germany,  and  had  this 
cutaneous  incrustation.  From  all  of  which  one  may 
infer  that,  by  carefully  selecting  and  marrying  these 
persons,  an  entirely  new  species  of  man  might  have 
been  produced.  Dr.  Pritchard  states  that  he  saw  a 
man,  similarly  affected,  who  asserted  that  he  was  a 
descendant  of  the  original  porcupine  man. 

Sir  H.  Holland,  in  his  "Medical  Notes,"  supplies 
many  instances  of  the  inheritance  of  diseases  and 
morbid  states  of  the  nervous  system.  Gout  runs  in 
families ;  nor  need  they  be,  in  every  case,  the  most 
noble  or  the  most  honorable.  So,  likewise,  is  hare-lip 
hereditary;  so  are  apoplexy,  epilepsy,  hysteria,  and 
tendency  to  hemorrhage. 

Here,  without  indelicacy,  may  it  be  asserted  that 
consanguineous  marriage  results  in  irreparable  injury 
to  offspring.  Should  there,  for  instance,  be  an  in- 
herited tendency  to  disease  in  two  brothers,  and  their 
children  intermarry,  as  cousins  often  do,  the  diseased 
tendency  would  be  strengthened  in  their  offspring, 
and  would,  in  all  likelihood,  break  out,  as  a  spring 
swollen  by  rains  forces  its  way  through  the  imposed 
stratum  of  clay  or  pebble.  On  the  other  hand,  mar- 
riage into  a  new  and  pure-blooded  family  may  arrest 
the  tendency  to  disease,  hold  it  in  check,  and,  by  wise 
management  in  matters  of  regimen,  altogether  stay  the 
march  of  the  plague-virus  of  consumption  or  epilepsy. 

There  is  heritage  of  mental  power  and  aptitude. 

It  is  admitted  that,  in  this  department,  there  is 


246          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

much  more  difficulty  in  fixing  and  defining  the  law 
of  inheritance,  than  in  the  physical.  Nevertheless, 
facts  carefully  collected,  sifted,  assorted,  compared, 
warrant  us  in  our  belief  in  the  transmission  of  mental 
characteristics.  The  law  by  no  means  explains  the 
sudden  appearance  of  talent  and  genius  in  families  of 
humble  origin,  unknown  to  fame,  and  unchronicled 
in  books  of  heraldry.  Of  such  there  is  an  abundance. 
Nor  do  we  doubt  the  existence  of  a  prodigious  quan- 
tity of  mental  talent  in  regions  of  society  not  yet 
mapped  upon  the  atlas  of  genius. 

Full  many  a  gem  of  purest  ray  serene 

The  dark,  unfathomed  caves  of  ocean  bear; 

Full  many  a  flower  is  born  to  blush  unseen, 
And  waste  its  sweetness  on  the  desert  air. 

From  humblest  origin  have  there  sprung  men 
mighty  as  rulers  of  the  state,  as  chiefs  in  the  camp, 
as  pontiffs  in  the  Church,  as  discoverers  of  scientific 
truth,  as  writers  of  deathless  song,  as  students  and 
scholars,  as  pioneers  of  civilization  in  pagan  lands,  as 
orators  at  the  bar,  in  the  senate,  and  in  the  pulpit,  as 
sculptors,  painters,  mechanicians;  men  who  carved  their 
own  shields,  and  illuminated  and  covered  them  with 
illustrious  quarteriiigs,  and  who  won  their  own  way 
to  the  starry  heights  of  race-wide  honor,  trust,  grati- 
tude ;  men  needing  not  marble  to  confer  upon  them 
the  greatness  which  their  own  bravely  and  wisely 
cultivated  powers  helped  them  to  win  and  wear.  Far- 
aday and  Carlyle  are  among  the  freshest  instances  of 
this. 

On  the  other  hand,  weak-minded  offspring  have 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  247 

been  found  among  the  descendants  of  illustrious  men. 
There  have  been  boobies  whose  fathers  were  giants  in 
mental  might  and  prowess.  But  this  surprises  us,  is 
contrary  to  our  anticipation,  and  is  generally  received 
as  a  deviation  from  an  established  law  of  nature.  The 
power  of  the  mother's  mind  plays  here  a  prime  part. 
I  believe  it  may  be  asserted  that,  unless  there  be  bodily 
disease  impeding  and  cramping  the  mental  forces  of 
the  child,  we  may,  with  certainty,  anticipate  greatness 
in  that  offspring  whose  parents  stood  high  in  the  king- 
dom of  intellectuality. 

We  have  but  to  recall  George  Stevenson  of  railway 
fame,  to  remember  his  yet  more  illustrious  son,  Robert. 
We  have  but  to  think  of  William  Wilberforce,  the 
Christian  statesman  and  philanthropist ;  small  of  stat- 
ure, but  capacious  of  soul ;  with  a  mind  capable  of  the 
highest  feats  of  statesmanship  ;  with  a  voice  of  match- 
less charm  ;  with  a  genius  for  oratory,  whose  orations 
extorted  eulogiums  from  the  first  critics  of  the  senate; 
and  we  shall  at  once  recall  the  fact  of  his  three  sons, 
each  of  distinguished  abilities,  but  one,  especially, 
without  a  superior  in  England  for  magnificence  of 
utterance  as  to  voice,  manner,  and  overpowering 
rhetorical  skill  and  art — the  sometime  Bishop  of  Ox- 
ford— the  present  Bishop  of  Winchester.* 

Henry  Hallam,  the  prince  of  philosophic  thinkers, 
whether  the  subject  were  literature,  law,  or  history, 
will  suggest  to  you  his  equally  gifted  son,  who  gave 
promise  of  a  career  as  splendid  and  a  fame  as  solid  as 
his  father's.  Poet,  essayist,  philosopher,  early — alas, 

*  1871. 


24:8         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

to  us  of  earth,  too  soon — summoned  from  tins  world 
of  imperfection  and  sorrow  to  a  sphere  more  conge- 
nial to  his  expansive  and  aspiring  nature.  And  yet, 
perhaps,  not  too  soon ;  for  to  his  early  removal  do 
we  not  owe  that  peerless  monody  wailed  and  chanted 
over  his  bier  by  our  Poet  Laureate — the  costliest 
chaplet  ever  plucked  and  woven  and  laid  upon  the 
tomb  of  evanished  beauty — the  choicest,  the  stateliest 
memorial  of  departed  excellence  ever  reared  by  the 
genius  of  bereaved  and  lamenting  friendship.  True, 
his  great  sire  found  a  resting-place  beneath  the  dome 
of  England's  grandest  mausoleum,  and  slumbers  sur- 
rounded by  the  remains  of  warriors,  statesmen,  poets, 
heroes ;  but  give  me  rather  to  rest  beneath  the  yet 
more  costly  cenotaph  carved  and  piled  above  the 
sacred  dust  of  Arthur  Hallam  by  the  genius  and 
affection  of  Alfred  Tennyson,  in  his  immortal  "In 
Memoriam."  The  abbey  shall  crumble  ;  the  bust  shall 
yield  to  time's  relentless  touch ;  but  the  poem  shall 
outlive  the  ages  and  outshine  the  sun. 

Those  of  you  who  know  any  thing  of  Isaac  Taylor 
know  that  in  him  were  combined  the  moral  and  the 
mental  sage,  the  biographer  and  the  historian  ;  equally 
at  home  when  descanting  upon  ancient  Christianity 
and  when  discoursing  of  Hebrew  poetry ;  when 
analyzing  the  morbid  frailties  of  the  fanatic  and 
the  enthusiast ;  when  delineating  the  founder  of 
the  Jesuits  and  mapping  out  the  world  of  mind  ; 
when  speculating  upon  the  physical  theory  of  another 
life,  and  when  sketching  for  his  household  the  out- 
lines of  home  education.  But  he  came  of  a  parent- 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  249 

age  of  mental  power  ;  owned  a  sister  of  no  mean  tal- 
ents as  a  poetess  ;  and  has  left  a  son  who,  both  as  an 
author  and  us  a  minister  of  Christ,  gives  promise  of 
a  fame  not  unworthy  his  illustrious  lineage. 

Aud  were  it  not  wearisome  to  you,  and  were  it  not 
deemed  verging  on  sectarianism,  I  might  venture  to 
give  you  yet  one  more  evidence  of  this  law  of  mental 
heritage. 

There  lived  a  man  in  the  last  century  whose  influ- 
ence npon  his  generation,  his  nation,  and  the  world's 
moral  history  it  were  impossible  to  exaggerate.  He 
was  a  scholar  and  a  fellow  of  his  college,  though  but 
twenty-nine  years  of  age.  Keen  as  a  logician,  exqui- 
site in  his  classic  taste,  and  of  soul  capable  of  sym- 
pathizing with  all  that  was  beautiful  in  art  and  true 
in  science,  of  philosophic  cast  of  mind,  and  of  insa^ 
tiate  appetite  for  knowledge,  he  added  to  these  all  a 
power  over  others  and  a  skill  in  governing  men  and 
organizing  institutions  worthy  of  a  Richelieu.  Yearn- 
ing to  benefit  his  fellows,  he  devoted  his  talents  and 
his  learning  to  the  mental  and  moral  enlightenment 
and  elevation  of  his  age — compiling  histories,  manu- 
als of  science,  grammars  of  ancient  and  modern  lan- 
guages ;  writing  tracts,  publishing  a  periodical,  writ- 
ing comments  upon  the  Old  and  New  Testaments ; 
preaching  three  times  a  day ;  traveling  on  horseback 
and  in  chaise  in  all  weathers  and  over  all  manner  of 
roads ;  maligned  and  lampooned  by  the  press  ;  pelted 
and  chased  for  his  life  by  ruffian  mobs  headed  and 
encouraged  by  squire  and  parson,  by  bribe  and  brandy ; 
yet  never  flinching,  never  halting  ;  sleeping  six  hours 


250         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

and  working  eighteen,  daily,  for  fifty  years,  until  he 
lived  to  see  his  persecutors  changed  into  admirers, 
and  to  receive  from  towns  whence  he  had  been  driven 
by  brutal  crowds  ovations  worthy  of  a  prince.  A 
true  and  loyal  son  of  the  Church  of  England,  but 
flung  forth  from  her  as  though  a  leper  ;  yet  cherish- 
ing an  affection  for  her  which  rose  with  every  insult, 
and  beat  as  high  when  in  "  age  and  feebleness  ex- 
treme "  he  passed  hence 

As  doth  the  morning  star, 

Which  goes  not  down  behind  the  darkened  west, 
But  melts  away  into  the  light  of  day. 

His  brothers  were  poets.  His  sisters  were  as  witty 
and  as  intelligent  as  they  were  beautiful  in  person — 
and  unfortunate  in  their  marriages.  His  father  had 
won  fame  as  a  Hebraist  and  as  a  poet.  His  mother  in- 
herited a  fair  face,  a  sound  constitution,  a  firm  faith, 
a  godly  leaning,  and  a  capacious  intellect  from  her  fa- 
ther. She  corresponded  with  her  sons,  while  at  col- 
lege, in  a  manner  worthy  of  a  doctor  of  theology, 
and,  in  instances  not  a  few,  furnished  them  with 
counsels  and  opinions  in  matters  of  faith  and  conduct 
fit  to  be  inscribed  in  letters  of  gold.  From  the 
mother  one  son  inherited  the  love  of  order  and 
power  of  ruling  ;  another  son,  from  the  father,  the 
gift  of  song ;  and  no  fairer  or  more  faithful  con- 
firmation of  the  law  of  mental  heritage  could  we 
present  than  that  furnished  by  the  history  of  him 
who  said  "  The  world  is  my  parish,"  and  of  his 
brother,  of  one  of  whose  poems  Dr.  Watts  confessed 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  251 

lie  would  rather  be  the  author  than  of  all  he  himself 
had  ever  composed.* 

There  is  another  instance  in  which  I  would  fain 
hope  we  shall  prove  that  the  law  of  heritage  in  mind- 
power  holds  true. 

Lately,  very  lately,  have  we  had  to  mourn  a  largely 
gifted  man.  He  could  play  with  infinite  ease  upon 
the  chords  of  our  nature ;  now  evoking  laughter, 
long  and  loud  ;  now,  sadness  even  to  tears  ;  now,  dis- 
gust and  loathing  ;  now.  exuberant  sympathy  with 
goodness  and  self-sacrifice.  He  could  tickle  one 
almost  to  death  with  his  feather.  He  could  blanch 
the  cheek  of  warrior  with  horror.  His  laughter 
chased  full  many  a  social  evil  to  the  pit.  His  satire 
sapped  the  foundations  of  not  a  few  legal  tyrannies, 
and  rang  the  knell  of  their  departing  cruelties. 
Weariness  was  forgotten  and  care  lulled  to  repose  by 
the  magic  of  his  wand.  He  lashed  hypocrisy  as  with 
a  sevenfold  scorpion  scourge.  He  plead  the  cause  of 
the  outcast  and  of  the  pauper  with  resistless  pathos. 
From  all  classes  he  gathered  admiration  ;  from  all 
nations  he  is  sure  to  obtain  the  guerdon  of  delighted 
readers.  Sentimental  benevolence  found  in  him  a 
merciless  foe.  Royalty  sought  his  friendship  and 
offered  him  his  choice  of  honors.  The  senate  house 

*  The  obligations  of  John  and  Charles  Wesley  for  their  mental 
powers  to  their  parentage  has  also  been  touched  upon  in  the  author's 
lecture  upon  "  Wesley  and  his  Helpers."  We  deem  it  hardly  neces- 
sary to  omit  this  passage  from  its  position  in  this  lecture  because  of 
the  fact  referred  to.  Eight  or  ten  years  elapsed  between  the  writing 
of  tin's  lecture  and  the  completiou  of  the  other. — EDITOR. 


252          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADUKESSES. 

lias  quoted  his  character,  nor  has  the  pulpit  disdained 
to  borrow  from  him  when  it  would  point  or  feather 
an  arrow  for  a  fatal  flight  to  some  pampered  selfish- 
ness within  the  precincts  of  professed  holiness.  All 
men  have  united  to  do  him  honor  ;  and  while  yet  of 
an  age  which  promised  large  increase  of  power  and 
product  he  is  gone  to  join 

The  innumerable  caravan  which  moves 

To  that  mysterious  realm  whore  each  shall  take 

His  chamber  in  the  silent  hulls  of  death. 

When  we  remember  that  eulogy  has  been  exhausted 
and  metaphor  beggared  in  seeking  to  express  the  es- 
timate cherished  of  him  by  the  thousands  of  his 
friends  ;  when  we  remember  the  simple-hearted  Pick- 
wick, and  the  renowned  Mrs.  Bardell,  and  the  inim- 
itable Samuel  "Weller  ;  when  we  recall  the  meanness 
of  a  Heep,  the  villainy  of  a  Pecksniff,  and  the  per- 
petual vivacity  of  a  Mark  Tapley  ;  when  we  weep  at 
the  recital  of  the  heroism  of  Little  Nell  and  clench 
our  fists  at  the  repulsive  monstrosity  called  Quilp  ; 
when  Bleak  House  throws  its  chill  shadow  o'er  our 
spirits  and  Little  Dorrit  evokes  our  sympathy  with 
changed  fortune,  demoralized  human  nature,  and 
triumphant  virtue,  and  then  think  that  the  genius  that 
catered  for  us  in  these  realms  of  fancy  shall  no  longer 
regale  or  renovate  our  flagging  spirits,  we  long  to  be- 
lieve that  the  mantle  of  the  social  reformer  has  fallen 
upon  shoulders  not  unequal  to  the  burden  and  the 
glory  which  form  the  heritage  of  Charles  Dickens  the 
Second.* 

*  This  has  not  been  quite  justilied,  as  yet,  by  the  facts. — EDITOR. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  253 

It  were  easy  to  multiply  instances  of  this  sort. 
Take  up  any  well-compiled  Biographical  Dictionary 
and  you  will  be  surprised  with  the  many  instances  il- 
lustrative of  transmitted  talent  and  aptitude  for  spe- 
cial excellence  in  artistic,  philosophic,  and  mathematic 
attainments. 

There  is  the  Kemble  family,  including  the  illus- 
trious Siddons ;  the  Keans,  Edmund  and  Charles ; 
the  Sheridans,  Thomas  and  Richard  Brinsley  and 
Mrs.  Norton  ;  the  Herschels,  Sir  William  and  his 
illustrious  assistant,  Miss  Herschel,  liis  sister,  and  his 
equally  gifted  son,  Sir  John  ;  Lord  Chatham  and  his 
son,  William  Pitt,  Premier  of  England  when  but 
twenty-five  years  old  ;  Sydney  Smith  and  his  daugh- 
ter, Lady  Holland,  the  authoress  of  "his  "Life;" 
Raphael,  the  son  of  a  painter  ;  Mozart,  the  son  of  a 
musician  ;  Thorwaldsen,  the  son  of  a  sculptor ;  the 
Adams  family  ;  the  Coleridge  family,  Samuel  Hart- 
ley, Sir  John,  Judge  Coleridge  and  his  son,  the  pres- 
ent* Solicitor  General.  It  has  been  noted  that 
the  legislative  faculty  descends  through  families  for 
generations.  It  has  also  been  observed  that  the  ascent 
of  intellectual  power  culminates  and  wanes  after 
three  or  four  generations. 

As  a  point  of  practical  moment  it  may  be  said  that 
it  is  possible  to  gradually  elevate  the  mental  capacity 
of  a  house  by  continuous  and  thorough  cultivation 
in  the  successive  families.  Culture  will  produce  apt- 
itude for  higher  attainments  in  offspring.  The 
nervous  and  mental  forces  become  enriched  in  sus- 

»  1876. 


254 

ceptibility  and  tendencies.  The  children  of  the  third 
generation  of  an  educated  family  are  sure  to  display  un- 
wonted facility  for  scholarly  excellence.  It  has  been  as- 
serted that  it  is  next  to  impossible  to  train  the  children 
of  totally  uneducated  parents  in  classical  knowledge. 
We  thus  sway  the  future  of  our  race  for  good,  for  ill. 
Ample  observation  assures  us  that  mental  deficiency 
is  inheritable.  Madness  is  certainly  transmissible. 
Idiots  beget  idiots.  There  is  a  globule  of  madness  in 
every  man's  blood.  Indeed,  the  majority  of  the  race 
is  mad ;  the  small  minority  sane.  It  is  "  a  mad  world, 
my  masters."  It  does  not  follow  that  this  assertion  is 
false  because  we  deny  it  and  may  give  proofs  to  sus- 
tain the  opposite  assertion.  Colney  Hatch,  with  its 
six  or  seven  hundred  patients,  would  do  the  same. 
Indeed,  our  planet  is  but  a  Colney  Hatch  upon  a  large 
scale.  Now  and  then  the  madness  assumes  a  specially 
virulent  form — as  when  gold  is  discovered,  or  a  dia- 
mond bed  is  dug  into,  or  a  South  Sea  Bubble  Com- 
pany is  formed,  or  joint-stock  associations  sweep  mill- 
ions into  a  bottomless  abyss  like  Milton's  pit.  On 
all  sides  terrible  and  fabulous  prices  are  given  for 
land,  and  railroad  shares  are  at  a  premium  of  125  ; 
or  a  rage  for  tulips  sets  in,  and  then  for  fuchsias, 
and  then  for  skye  terriers,  and  then  for  high-heeled 
boots  and  pagoda -shaped  head-dresses.  Why,  the 
French  nation  is  just  now*  suffering  from  an  acute 
attack  of  madness.  The  insufferable  vanity  of  the 
Gallic  cock  is  but  madness.  He  must  crow  above 
and  crow  over  .all  others,  to  prove  that  he  is  "  game." 

*1871. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  255 

What  cares  he  for  the  blood  which  may  be  shed  in 
the  gratification  of  his  inordinate  ambition  !  "Where- 
fore does  he  possess  spurs  if  not  to  flesh  them  in 
the  carcass  of  "  Spanish "  or  other  fowl  ?  Was  not 
Europe  upheaved  from  ocean's  depths  by  earthquake 
Titans  that  the  bird  might  have  a  "  pit ''  in  which  to 
gratify  his  belligerent  propensity  ? 

Bismarck  becomes  possessed  of  an  idea,  or  an  idea 
possesses  him.  He  will  have  German  unity.  There- 
fore a  war  with  Austria  ensues ;  and  the  idea  costs 
45,000  men,  who  were  killed  at  the  price  of  £1,500 
per  head. 

The  royal  houses  of  Europe  are  terrible  instances 
of  the  law  of  inheritance.  They  would  intermarry. 
None  but  royal  blood  shall  flow  in  their  veins.  Ger- 
many shall  be  the  nursery  ground  for  the  heirs  to 
empire.  Russia,  Prussia,  Spain,  Portugal,  Naples, 
Austria,  England,  shall  draw  thence  the  mothers  of 
their  future  sovereigns  or  the  husbands  of  their 
princesses ;  and  these,  again,  shall  wed  their  offspring, 
it  matters  not  how  enfeebled  in  nerve,  how  enervated 
in  mind,  until,  as  the  result  of  putting  too  fine  a  point 
upon  the  royal  breed,  lo,  mind  itself  becomes  pointless. 

The  Crimean  war,  which  lost  784,000  lives  at  the 
price  of  £483  per  head,  was  nothing  but  the  crime 
of  a  mad,  proud  despot  resolved  that  the  Russian  Bear 
should  have  a  breakfast  on  the  Sick  Man  of  Turkey. 
Nicholas  inherited  insanity.  The  present  Emperor* 
is  mad.  Nearly  all  the  monarchs  of  Russia  displayed 
madness.  It  is  an  awful  heirloom  of  the  house. 

*  The  late  Alexander  II. 


256          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

The  Prussian  royal  house  inherits  madness,  since  the 
days,  at  least,  of  Carlyle's  hero's  father.  A  royal  gen- 
tleman, whose  custom  it  was  to  cane  his  son,  fling  pokers 
at  his  daughter's  head,  and  when  the  fancy  takes  him, 
to  spit  upon  his  daughter's  plate,  and  seek  to  strangle 
his  son  with  the  curtain  cord — that  such  a  man  should 
have  had  such  charms  for  Carlyle,  and  that  the  high- 
priest  should  have  offered  such  incense  and  homage 
to  his  grim  deity,  compels  one  to  the  painful  belief 
that  even  he,  too,  is  not  exempt  from  the  malady  of 
our  species  ;  but  whether  an  immediate  heritage  from 
his  parents,  or  an  ancient  one  transmitted  through  an 
interminable  line,  I  am  not  able  to  say.* 

Nor  is  tliere  wanting  evidence  of  the  heritableness 
of  moral  qualities  and  tendencies. 

That  this  should  be  is  as  likely  as  that  the  phys- 
ical and  the  mental  should  be  transmitted.  Certain 
forms  of  vicious  tendency  are  hereditary,  such  as 
falsehood,  theft,  sensuality,  drunkenness. 

The  terrible  effects  of  opium-eating  upon  the  child 
are  frequently  noticed  by  physicians.  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge  is  the  most  notable  example.  His  mental 
power  is  well  known.  Profound  as  a  metaphysician, 
and  matchless  as  a  talker,  he  gave  way  to  opium, 
until  it  became  an  omnipotent  tyrant.  He  often 
wished  to  be  placed  in  an  asylum  that  he  might  be 
delivered  from  its  power,  and  finally  had  an  attendant 
whose  duty  it  was  to  see  that  the  drug  never  reached 
him.  His  state  of  feeling  he  describes  as  agony,  as 

*  All  the  facts  developed  since  Carlyle's  death  were  not,  of  course, 
known  at  the  time  of  writing. — EDITOK. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  257 

hell ;  the  insatiate  craving,  then  indulgence,  then  re- 
action from  the  raptures  of  elysium,  at  once  plunged 
into  the  fierce  fires  of  Tartarus,  similar  to  those  pangs 
endured  by  De  Quincey.  The  moral  results  were : 
total  separation  between  will  and  conscience ;  an  all 
but  absolute  impotence  of  volition  in  all  the  relations 
of  life  ;  engagements  unfulfilled ;  promises  forgotten ; 
friendship  ignored  ;  and  a  condition  more  allied  to 
insanity  than  to  reason,  his  miserable  doom.  His  son 
Hartley  inherited  the  morbid  condition  both  of  body 
and  soul.  Stimulant  he  must  have,  though  it  be 
alcoholic;  and  with  this,  weakness  of  volition,  in- 
tense sensibility  without  power  of  control.  To  the 
slightest  temptation  he  yielded.  He  shrank  from 
mental  pain.  He  could  not  open  a  letter  without 
trembling.  Yet,  well  aware  of  his  weakness,  in  one 
of  his  books  he  wrote  the  following : 

O  woeful  impotence  of  weak  resolve 

Recorded,  testify  the  writer's  shame. 

Days  pass  away,  and  Time's  large  orbs  revolve, 

And  every  day  beholds  me  still  the  same; 

Till  oft-neglected  purpose  loses  aim, 

And  hope  becomes  a  flat,  unheeded  lie. 

The  results  of  inherited  tendency  to  drunkenness 
are  of  a  horrifying  nature.  This  tendency  is  called 
dipsomania.  It  displays  itself  as  a  susceptibility  to 
nervous  excitement  in  the  first  generation,  and,  if 
yielded  to  and  indulged  in,  becomes  an  irresistible 
craving  in  the  third.  It  is,  indeed,  a  disease  of  the 
moral  as  of  the  physical  constitution.  Motives  are 
powerless — it  matters  not  what  they  be.  Self-esteem, 


258          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

love,  religion — all  are  urged  in  vain.  The  victim  in- 
dulges, and,  having  recovered,  promises  amendment ; 
but  the  cycle  revolves  with  it  the  thirst,  the  longing, 
which  becomes  an  overmastering  one,  to  whose  impe- 
rious fiat  the  unhappy  victim  is  compelled  to  yield 
obedience.  There  is  no  regard  for  truth,  for  honor, 
for  domestic  ties.  Children  may  starve;  the  wife 
pine  in  rags;  his  own  person  present  every  aspect 
of  neglect  and  dissipation.  He  heeds  not ;  nor  can  he 
explain  the  motives  which  impel  him  to  a  life  of  vaga- 
bondage. 

The  children  of  intemperate  parents  are  sure  to  in- 
herit morbid  tendencies  intellectually.  They  live  up 
to  a  certain  age,  when  mental  growth  becomes  ar- 
rested, and  gradually  they  sink  into  imbecility  or 
idiocy.  M.  Mord  records  the  case  of  a  young  man 
whose  father  was  a  drunkard.  This  son  gave  way 
to  the  crime.  He  had  seven  children,  of  whose  his- 
tory this  is  a  summary : 

The  first  two  died  of  convulsions. 

The  third,  a  son,  attained  some  skill  in  handicraft,  but  be- 
came an  idiot  at  twenty -two. 

The  fourth,  a  son,  attained  a  certain  amount  of  intelligence 
which  he  could  not  exceed,  and  relapsed  into  profound  melan- 
choly with  tendency  to  suicide,  which  ended  in  harmless 
imbecility. 

The  fifth,  a  son,  is  of  a  peculiar  and  irritable  disposition, 
and  has  broken  off  all  connection  with  his  family. 

The  sixth  was  a  daughter,  with  the  strongest  hysteric  tend- 
encies ;  profoundly  impressed  by  the  sad  spectacle  of  her 
family.  She  has  been  seriously  troubled  in  her  reason  re- 
peatedly. 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  259 

The  seventh  is  a  remarkably  intelligent  workman,  but  ex- 
tremely nervous  and  depressed  ;  he  indulges  in  the  most 
despairing  anticipations  with  regard  to  his  life  and  reason. 

A  most  melancholy  picture  this,  it  will  be  con 
fessed. 

Habits  of  gambling  propagate  a  tendency  in  the 
children.  A  lady  is  named  who  possessed  great 
wealth,  and  who  passed  her  nights  in  gaming ;  she 
died  young  of  pulmonary  disease.  Her  eldest  son 
was  equally  addicted  to  play,  and  also  died  of  con- 
sumption at  the  same  age  as  his  mother.  Her  daughter 
inherited  the  same  passion  and  the  same  disease. 

1.  There  is  augmented  propensity  transmitted. 

2.  There  is  enfeebled  volition  transmitted. 

3.  There  is  moral  obliquity  and  obtuseness  trans- 
mitted. 

4.  There  is  nervous  predisposition  Transmitted. 
The  history  of  the  House  of  Stuart  is  a  remarkable 

illustration  of  the   transmission  of    bad   and  vicious 
qualities. 

Starting  from  the  Queen  of  Scots,  and  ending  with 
the  Chevalier,  there  is  a  striking  display  of  evil  ten- 
dency, evil  conduct,  and  evil  consequences.  The 
beautiful  Mary  inherited,  with  a  Stuart  nature,  one 
infinitely  worse :  that  which,  through  her  mother,  she 
brought  over  from  one"  of  the  basest  families  of 
France — the  House  of  Guise.  The  members  of  that 
family,  whether  in  the  Church,  in  the  State,  in  the 
camp,  in  the  court,  displayed  every-where  cruelty  of 
heart,  sensual  propensity,  virulent  bigotry,  vaulting 

ambition,  total  contempt  for  truth,  exalted  notions  of 
18 


260         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  "  divinity  that  doth  hedge  a  king."  With  them 
murder  was  one  of  the  fine  arts,  and  to  be  assiduously 
cultivated.  They  lived  in  an  atmosphere  of  lust  and 
duplicity.  They  were  capable  of  vast  reach  of 
thought,  of  high  appreciation  of  art.  They  perished 
in  the  fourth  generation,  abhorred,  despised,  accursed. 
The  fiercest  fires  of  persecution  were  kindled  by  their 
breath  and  fagoted  by  their  hands.  The  Barthol- 
omew massacre  found  them  equipped  for  the  shambles 
and  prompt  to  shed  blood.  The  Queen  of  Scots  was 
doomed  to  spring  from  this  parentage,  to  lap  this 
milk  and  inhale  the  inspiration  of  this  ancestry.  She 
was  beautiful  —  a  perfect  witch  in  manner  and  in 
speech  —  but  she  was  lustful,  cruel,  treacherous. 
James,  her  son,  was  a  pedant,  not  over  careful  of 
veracity,  and  a  tyrant.  Charles  I.  loved  the  fine  arts 
and  patronized  them,  but  he  loved  power  more ;  and 
at  his  ease  forgot  his  oaths  and  ignored  the  liberty 
and  laws  of  his  people ;  every  inch  a  tyrant.  No 
Englishman's  life  was  safe  while  Charles  sat  upon  the 
throne.  His  death  was  the  last  effort  of  imperiled 
men  to  avert  their  own  murder.  Charles  II.  was  a 
clebauche,  too  vile  to  permit  us  to  characterize  him. 
Kead  Jesse's  "  Court  of  the  Stuarts  "  for  confirma- 
tion. He  seemed  an  incarnation  of  unclean  spirits. 
Witty — for  he  never  said  a  foolish  thing — but  indif- 
ferent was  he  to  the  glory  of  his  kingdom  so  long  as 
his  parasites  pandered  to  his  lewd  desires  and  supplied 
him  with  additional  stimuli  to  his  exhausted  appetite. 
James  II.  was  a  morbid,  superstitious,  cold-blocded 
tyrant ;  full  of  deceit,  treachery,  cruelty.  No  one 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  .  201 

could  trust  his  honor.  He  sold  his  nation  to  Louis 
for  French  gold.  And,  weary  of  him,  Britain  chased 
him  from  her  throne  and  banished  him  from  her 
shores,  to  seek  a  shelter  and  a  tomb  within  the  nation 
from  whose  fated  family  of  Guise  his  race  inherited 
the  vices  that  entailed  this  doom. 

And  this  is,  verily,  a  solemn  thought  for  us  parents. 
We  do  not  live  for  or  to  ourselves.  Onward  the  evil 
lives  after  us,  in  children  and  in  children's  children. 
There  is  not  a  vice  I  cherish,  nor  a  forbidden  pleas- 
ure in  which  I  indulge,  nor  a  sin  against  honor, 
against  veracity,  against  honesty,  against  chastity,  that 
does  not,  from  me,  move  down  to  those  who  own  me 
as  their  sire.  In  them  my  habits  shall  germinate.  I 
entail  upon  them,  if  not  actual,  visible  suffering,  in- 
ward and  more  real  woe.  I  render  their  fight  for 
virtue  more  difficult.  Through  me,  they  feel  the 
stirrings  of  base  emotions,  and  feel  them,  in  less  easily 
vanquished  force,  clamoring  for  indulgence  and  cry- 
ing out  for  sovereignty.  It  may  break  out  in  disease 
of  body ;  it  may  come  forth  in  disease  of  heart ;  it 
may  appear  in  moral  obliquity  and  social  crime ;  but 
in  any  case  the  wretched  inheritor  of  my  selfishness 
might  well  turn  round  and  hiss  a  red-hot  curse  upon 
the  sire  to  whom  he  owes  his  infamous  legacy. 

We  can,  on  the  other  hand,  transmit  a  higher  and 
huler  and  holier  type  of  moral  sympathies  and  apti- 
tudes. We  cannot  give  them  piety ;  that  must  be 
their  own  choice  and  duty.  But  we  can  render  the 
choice  less  difficult,  less  repulsive.  We  can  lessen  the 
obstacles  hindering  the  choice.  We  can,  I  firmly 


262         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

hold,  propagate  affinity  for  certain  moral  virtues,  so 
that  our  children  shall  hate  meanness,  reverence  truth- 
fulness, respect  others,  and  come  into  being  with  a 
moral  soil  more  disposed  to  welcome  into  its  bosom 
the  good  seed  which  is  able  to  save  the  soul. 

And  this  arrangement  is  another  aid  to  a  virtuous 
life  in  me.  Many  are  the  aids,  the  incentives,  to  this 
life  by  which  I  am  encompassed  and  appealed  to. 
My  health  will  be  preserved ;  my  reputation  im- 
proved ;  my  self-respect  upheld ;  my  peace  of  heart, 
of  home,  promoted ;  my  future  prospects  brightened. 
These  all  are  some  of  the  manifold  incentives  to  a  right 
and  godly  life  by  which  I  am  appealed  to. 

And  there  is  this  among  others :  an  appeal  to  our 
natural  affection  as  parents. 

This  is  a  deep  thrust.  This  is  a  fresh  evidence  of 
the  purity  of  the  moral  government  of  God.  Even 
this  affection  shall  be  engaged,  be  subsidized,  in  the 
benign  work  of  slaying  corruption  and  inducing  men 
to  a  career  of  goodness. 

Your  offspring !  Aye,  there  they  stand,  though 
yet  unborn — the  boy  of  broad  brow ;  the  girl  of  glossy 
curls  and  beaming  face  and  coal-black  eye.  There 
they  group  around  you  and  appeal  to  you  and  pray 
to  you  as  their  father,  to  have  pity,  have  pity,  have 
pity,  upon  them.  Spare  them  shame !  Spare  them 
self-contempt !  Spare  them  contempt  for  you !  Aid 
not  the  devil  and  the  world  by  aiding  the  flesh — your 
flesh  !  Render  not  their  life  a  fierce  and  awful  fight 
with  themselves — with  a  body  from  which  they  can- 
not free  themselves;  a  fight  with  proclivities  they 


THE  LAW  OF  INHERITANCE.  2G3 

had  never  known  but  for  you !  " J)eny  yourself  for 
us,"  they  say.  "  End,  end  your  self-indulgence,  for  us ! 
Dash  the  cup  from  your  lip  and  flee  the  bed  of  adul- 
tery, for  ns !  We  must  suffer  for  your  pleasures ;  for 
your  hour  of  enjoyment  we  must  pay  the  penalty  of 
a  life  of  feebleness,  if  not  of  penury.  Pity  us  in  our 
beauty,  in  our  frailty !  Rather  say  we  shall  never  be 
— never  see  the  light — never  live  to  curse  the  day  of 
birth — than  gratify  yourself !  "* 

*  The  last  page  of  the  MS.  of  this  lecture  was  lost.  We  have  been 
compelled  to  terminate  it  with  the  close  of  the  above  paragraph. 
This  will  account  for  the  abruptness  with  which  the  lecture  ends. — 
EUITOK. 


264         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.* 

TWICE  has  it  been  my  privilege  and  my  joy  to 
visit  the  Yosemite  Valley.  Had  it  been  seven 
times  instead  of  twice  the  seventh  visit  had  been 
more  instructive  and  ennobling  than  the  sixth.  With 
each  return  to  spot  and  scene  the  wonder  grows,  the 
admiration  kindles  into  flame  more  ardent,  and  the 
satisfaction  waxes  in  intensity  and  depth.  Xo  de- 
scription —  be  it  by  poet,  painter,  writer,  orator  —  can 
be  thought  of  as  approaching  the  reality.  "  The  half 
was  not  told,"  must  be  the  exclamation  of  the  en- 
tranced beholder  and  listener. 

We  start,  say,  from  the  Palace  Hotel  ;  cross  the 
San  Francisco  bay  ;  enter  the  cars  for  Merced  City  ; 
and,  if  the  mosquitoes  will  but  condescend  to  permit 
us,  enjoy  a  good  night's  sleep  in  preparation  for  the 
day's  staging.  Twelve  hours  at  least  are  spent  before 
reaching  Clarke's  Hotel  ;  and,  having  rested  and  slept 
a  second  night,  we  either  move  on  to  the  Yalley  the 
day  following,  or  remain  to  spend  that  day  in  visiting 
the  Mariposa  trees.  Upon  the  third  day,  if  we  choose, 
we  reach  the  Valley  by  one  o'clock,  and  become  the 
guests  of  Black  or  Hutchings. 

There  are  at  least  three  modes  of  entrance  to  the 
Yalley  ;  that  by  which  I  entered  passes  "  Inspiration 

*  A  lecture  partly  written  in  1877,  partly  in  1879,  and  partly  in  1880. 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  265 

Point."  This  is  the  point  from  whence  one  gains  the 
first  view  of  the  glorious  spot.  We  halted  and  gazed 
with  bated  breath  and  brimming  eye.  What  an  im- 
pertinence is  language  in  presence  of  such  a  scene ! 
I  thought  of  Moses  as,  from  Nebo's  crest,  "God 
showed  him  all  the  land,"  from  Hermon's  snowy 
helmet  to  where  the  desert  of  the  south  touches  Im- 
manuers  soil,  from  where  Jordan  winds  its  tortuous 
way  to  where  the  waves  of  the  Great  Sea  lave  the 
foot  of  Carmel,  from  where  Engedi's  groves  of  spice 
lade  the  breezes  to  where  Sharon's  roses  bloom  and 
Gilead's  forests  bleed  their  balm.  There  we  caught, 
indeed,  the  inspiration  which  has  never  left  us  or 
forsaken  us  since. 

On  we  dashed,  by  zigzag  but  well-constructed  road 
—down,  round,  back,  on,  round,  backward,  onward, 
downward — until  the  level  of  the  Merced  River  was 
safely  reached ;  thence  through  shrubbery  and  o'er 
sand  and  streamlet,  until  we  landed  in  presencje  of 
the  "  Eagle's  Nest,"  and  within  the  musical  thunder  of 
the  Yosemite  Falls. 

The  Valley  is  about  nine  miles  long,  and  one  mile 
and  a  half  wide.  It  is  forty-one  hundred  feet  above 
the  level  of  the  sea.  Through  it  flows  the  Merced 
River.  The  walls  of  the  Valley  are  gray  granite, 
nearly  vertical,  and  from  three  thousand  to  six  thou- 
sand feet  above  the  level  of  the  Valley,  thus  from 
seven  thousand  to  ten  thousand  feet  above  the  level 
of  the  ocean. 

The  highest  fall  in  the  Yosemite  is  two  thousand 
six  hundred  and  thirty-four  feet  high.  This  cataract  is 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

composed  of  three  falls :  the  first,  one  thousand  six 
hundred  feet ;  the  second,  five  hundred  and  thirty-four 
feet ;  the  third,  five  hundred  feet  high.  The  Nevada 
fall  is  the  most  massive ;  there  the  main  body  of  the 
Merced,  fresh  from  the  eternal  snow  and  ice  of  the 
Sierras,  leaps  six  hundred  feet,  or  nearly  four  times  as 
high  as  Niagara  ;  it  is  sixty  feet  wide.  From  thence 
the  river  rushes  with  resistless  impetuosity  through  a 
narrow  gorge  over  the  huge  debris  of  boulders  with 
a  noise  "as  of  many  waters,"  forming  one  of  the 
grandest  and  wildest  scenes  of  the  Valley. 

We  climbed,  partly  on  foot  and  partly  on  horseback, 
to  Glacier  Point.  The  travel  is  perfectly  safe ;  the 
horses  are  well  trained ;  the  road  is  broad  and  well 
defended.  On  horseback  there  is  but  little  fatigue 
experienced.  And  even  were  the  fatigue  fourfold 
greater  one  is  well  repaid  for  the  toil  by  the  "  vision 
splendid  "  which  greets  him  from  the  projecting  table 
which,  three  thousand  two  hundred  feet  above  the 
level  of  the  Valley,  and  seven  thousand  four  hundred 
feet  above  the  ocean,  permits  him  to  look — out,  up, 
down  —  on  one  of  the  most  superbly  sublime  pan- 
oramas of  this  or  any  other  orb. 

The  cloudless  blue  is  above  us  ;  the  far-roaming 
snow-robed  plateaus  of  the  Sierra  beyond  us ;  the  Cap 
of  Liberty  and  Cloud's  Rest  to  our  right ;  Starr  King 
and  Mt.  Whitney ;  South  Dome  and  North,  rounded 
and  polished  by  the  gigantic  glacier's  chisel  and 
plane ;  El  Capitan  to  our  left ;  the  Three  Brothers, 
and  the  Cathedral  Spires  on  either  side  of  the  Valley  ; 
the  river  but  a  thread  of  moving  water ;  the  Yosemite 


TlIE    YOSEMITE   AND   ITS    LESSONS.  267 

with  its  threefold  plunge ;  far  off  the  subdued  thunder 
of  the  Nevada  and  Vernal  falls. 

Immensity,  almightiness,  age,  time,  eternity,  the 
littleness  and  the  grandeur  of  man,  the  glory  and  the 
vanity  of  earth,  the  self-sufficiency  and  the  incessant 
activity  of  Deity,  all  in  turn  seize  the  spirit,  move, 
awe,  subdue,  yet  elevate  and  inspire  the  heart.  I 
could  not  speak  amid  such  magnificence.  Even 
thought  -seemed  paralyzed  in  the  presence  of  such 
symbols  of  the  majesty  of  nature  and  the  surpassing 
greatness  of  Him  who,  through  ages  innumerable,  and 
by  agencies  titanic,  had  upheaved  and  sculptured,  dis- 
pread  and  massed,  consolidated  and  embellished  this 
august  and  sacred  shrine  in  earth's  far-spanning  tem- 
ple! 

You  are  impressed  with  the  thought  that  here  all 
zones  and  climates,  all  forms  and  colors,  all  aspects 
and  motions,  all  elements  of  strength  and  beauty,  of 
sternness  and  repose,  conspire  and  combine.  There  is 
the  valley  and  the  gorge ;  there  is  the  still  radiance  of 
the  lake  and  the  glad  motion  of  the  rushing  river ; 
there  is  the  meek  wild-flower  and  the  stately  pine; 
there  is  the  gleam  of  the  many-tinted  butterfly  and 
the  majestic  movement  of  the  soaring  eagle ;  there 
is  eternal  winter  on  the  summit,  there  are  the  luxuries 
of  tropic  summer  in  the  dell ;  there  is  mountain  and 
there  is  water  ;  there  is  beauty  and  there  is  sublimity. 
Dew  sparkles ;  timely  rains  descend  ;  zephyrs  glide 
or  loiter  ;  wild  winds  swell  and  sigh ;  thunder  crashes, 
and  lightnings  blaze  their  banner  o'er  the  dusky  sky. 
The  eye  is  regaled  ;  the  ear  soothed.  Now  serenity 


268          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

broods  within  you ;  and  now  exhilarating  ecstasy 
flashes  and  flushes  and  flows  over  in  eye  and'  cheek 
and  lip.  The  adventurous  is  dared,  the  explorer  chal- 
lenged, the  studious  wooed,  the  observing  rewarded. 
Earth's  dreary  noises  are  unheard,  and  man's  mam- 
mon-worship is  forgotten.  The  cares  and  fretfulness 
of  life,  the  strife  and  rivalry  of  time,  depart.  Nature 
in  her  divinest  forms  alone  takes  possession  of  the 
spirit,  and  man,  hushed  and  reverent,  bends  to  catch 
the  speech  of  God. 

One  ought  to  be  very  much  better  for  a  trip  like 
this.  One's  threefold  being — spirit,  soul,  body — 
should  return  largely  benefited.  And  it  is  almost  a 
sin  if  any  one  go  and  return  unimproved.  When 
such  is  the  case  there  must  be  some  deep-seated  un- 
healthiness,  both  in  body  and  in  soul. 

What  do  you  need  to  take  with  you  so  that  you  may 
make  the  most  of  a  visit  ?  No  one  ought  to  go  there 
who  does  not  take  with  him  clear,  open  eyes,  a 
wakeful,  thoughtful  mind,  an  honest,  pure,  tender 
heart,  arid  a  soul  in  sympathy  with  the  great  and 
benignant  Creator,  Father,  and  Friend  of  man. 

I  will  not  stop  to  say  that  you  need  a  good,  a  well- 
filled  purse.  Nor  will  I  stop  to  say  that  you  need  a 
friend  or  two,  full  of  enthusiasm,  of  vigor,  and  of 
susceptibilities.  But  I  will  say  in  one  word  what 
you  cannot  do  without,  what  you  must  take  with  you, 
so  as  to  return  most  weightily  laden  with  most  worthy 
benefit.  That  word  is  health  ;  health  of  body,  so  that 
you  can  climb  and  ride  without  pain  and  faintness> 
and  laugh  and  cry  in  turn ;  health  of  heart,  purity, 


THE  YOSEMTTE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  2G9 

love,  meekness,  docility,  reverence,  wonder,  admira- 
tion, gratitude ;  health  of  intellect,  the  clear  thought, 
the  keen  vision,  the  quick  ear,  the  elastic  nerve  of 
soul-health ;  health  of  your  entire  manhood  or  woman- 
hood. 

Sympathy  is  essential  to  the  full,  remunerative  en- 
joyment of  the  Valley  and  its  wonders.  There  are 
ears,  I  believe,  incapable  of  distinguishing  one  note 
from  another.  There  are  eyes  positively  color-blind. 
There  are  men  who  see  nothing  in  Milton's  "  Paradise 
Lost,"  because  it  does  not  mathematically  demonstrate 
any  problem.  There  are  natures  so  thoroughly  pet- 
rified by  sordidness  and  sensualism  that,  for  their 
delectation,  the  Yosemite  exists  in  vain.  There  are 
self-conceited,  self-idolizing  creatures  who  see  nothing 
to  admire  in  nature.  Over  the  Mirror  Lake  they 
sail,  and  into  its  depths  they  glance ;  it  is  the  only 
spot  in  the  Valley  they  enjoy.  And  why  ?  Because 
it  is  the  only  spot  in  which,  as  in  a  glass,  they  can 
look  upon  themselves  reflected !  Such  as  they  have 
reached  a  stage  of  culture  in  which  the  faculty  of 
admiration  works  not,  for  it  is  not.  The  wonder 
of  ingenuous  and  self-forgetting  youth  has  given 
place  to  the  hard,  cruel,  unfeelingness  of  a  blasted, 
cinder-like  muscle  once  called  a  heart.  f 

Sourness  and  bitterness  of  spirit  disqualify  for  the 
Valley.  Meekness  and  humility,  sun  pie  faith  and  fer- 
vent adoration  largely  equip  for  its  due  and  keen 
appreciation.  The  clearer  the  understanding,  the 
tenderer  the  heart,  so  much  the  more  is  it  likely  "  thine 
eye  shall  see  the  beauty  of  the  Great  King,"  in  such 


270         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

a  spot  as  this.  You  must  go  with  every  fiber  of  your 
being  tremulous  and  strung ;  with  every  sense  awake 
and  vigorous  ;  with  all  of  memory  in  play,  and  all  of 
imagination  in  lofty  mood  and  tone.  You  must  go 
with  your  soul  having,  as  it  were,  "  a  look  southward, 
and  open  to  the  whole  noon  of  nature."  As  seen 
through  the  lenses  of  some  atrabilarious  natures,  there 
is  neither  form  nor  comeliness  in  the  loveliest  land- 
scapes. 

Nor  may  you  hope  for  success  in  your  visit  if  you 
take  with  you  only  the  Peter-Bell-like  spirit : 

A  primrose  by  the  river's  brim, 
A  yellow  primrose  was  to  him ; 
And  it  was  nothing  more. 

Rather  take  the  spirit  of  him  who  wrote  of  the 
"  Daisy ; "  of  him  who,  placing  the  orient  sea-shell 
to  his  ear,  heard  through  the  convolutions  of  the 
smooth-lipped  conch  the  cadence  of  the  ocean  in 
whose  depths  the  lovely  thing  was  fashioned ;  of 
him  who  followed  the  skylark  beyond  the  cloud  and 
heard  him  carol  at  the  bars  of  the  gate  of  gold,  till 
seraphs  ceased  to  harp  and  learned  to  sing,  taught  by 
the  frail  denizen  of  the  clover  and  the  sod ;  the 
spirit  of  him  who,  having  looked  upon  a  pond  mar- 
gined by  daifodils,  sat  down  and  wrote : 

I  wander'd  lonely  as  a  cloud 

That  floats  on  high  o'er  vales  and  hills, 

"When  all  at  once  I  saw  a  crowd, 

A  host  of  golden  daffodils ; 

Beside  the  lake,  beneath  the  trees, 

Fluttering  and  daucing  in  the  breeze. 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  271 

Continuous  as  the  stars  that  shine 

And  twitkle  on  the  milky  way, 

They  stretched  in  never-ending  line 

Along  the  margin  of  a  bay; 

Teii  thousand  saw  I  at  a  glance, 

Tossing  their  heads  in  sprightly  dance. 

The  waves  beside  them  danced,  but  they 

Outdid  the  sparkling  waves  in  glee: — 

A  poet  could  not  but  be  gay, 

lu  such  a  jocund  company! 

I  gazed — and  gazed — but  little  thought 

What  wealth  the  show  to  me  had  brought: 

For  oft,  when  on  my  couch  I  lie, 

In  vacant  or  in  pensive  mood, 

They  flash  upon  that  inward  eye 

Which  is  the  bliss  of  solitude, 

And  then  my  heart  with  pleasure  fills, 

And  dances  with  the  daffodils. 

And,  last  of  all,  take  that  state  of  heart  which 
voiced  itself  in  the  well-known  lines : 

Not  to  the  domes  whose  crumbling  arch  and  column 

Attest  the  feeblene.'  s  of  mortal  hand  ; 
But  to  the  fane,  most  catholic  and  solemn 
Which  God  hath  planned; 

To  that  cathedral,  boundless  os  our  wonder, 

Whose  quenchless  lamps  the  sun  and  moon  supply, 
Its  music,  winds  and  waves — its  organ,  thunder ; 
Its  dome,  the  sky ; 

There,  amidst  solitude  and  shade,  to  wander 

Through  the  green  aisles,  or,  stretched  upon  the  sod, 
And  by  the  silence,  reverently  ponder 
The  ways  of  God. 

I  thought,  as  I  stood  in  the  Valley,  for  how  many 
uses  and  ends  has  the  Great  Creator  "  given  the  earth 
to  the  children  of  men ! " 


272         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

There  is  the  bodily  life  provided  for ;  light  there  is 
for  the  life  of  the  eye,  and  air  for  the  life  of  the 
lungs ;  and  corn  and  wine  and  oil  to  build  up  the 
framework,  and  knit  it  into  gracefulness.  And  there 
is  the  cotton  plant  and  the  silkworm  ;  the  woolly 
sheep  and  the  flax  fiber ;  fur  of  seal  and  beaver ;  the 
hide  of  goat  and  ox ;  the  pelt  of  rabbit  and  of  rat ; 
the  flesh  of  fish  and  of  fowl — enough,  enough  to 
satisfy  the  need  and  minister  to  the  comforts  of  the 
myriad  millions  who  tenant  this  fair  globe  !  Eipened 
by  the  sunbeam,  enriched  by  the  rainfall,  nurtured  by 
the  stream,  vivified  by  the  gale,  in  our  Father's  house 
there  is  bread  enough  and  to  spare.  From  hill  and 
flood,  from  glen  and  valley,  from  deep  that  coucheth 
beneath,  and  from  far-spreading  and  soaring  heights, 
he  compels  our  supplies  ! 

You  will  not  be  long  in  the  Yalley  until  you  have 
learned  that  man  is  a  bartering  and  a  money-making 
being ;  and  that  the  earth  serves  one  great  end  in 
supplying  man  with  the  materials  for  a  life  of  trade. 
And  an  eminently  useful  end  it  is.  Commerce  has 
a  marvelous  tale  to  tell.  Commerce  has  been  a  civil- 
izer  and  a  discoverer:  Commerce  has  brought  distant 
nations  into  contact  and  broken  down  many  a  wall  of 
prejudice.  Commerce  has  had  her  heroes,  and  one 
day  may  have  her  historian,  and  perhaps  her  poet,  to 
describe  in  graphic  page  and  glowing  numbers  her 
toils  and  triumphs,  her  vices  and  her  virtues,  her 
mission  of  conquest  and  of  civilization  o'er  the  earth. 
In  the  trade  carried  on  in  the  Yalley,  in  the  hotel 
life  prevailing,  in  the  gardens  tilled  and  the  cattle 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  273 

fed,  and  the  saddle-horse  conveniences  for  traveling 
and  climbing,  we  have  man's  secular  use  of  the  earth 
illustrated. 

There  are  also  those  in  the  Valley  for  purposes  of 
recreation.  They  have  time  at  their  command,  and 
money.  Worried  and  exhausted  by  the  battle  of  life, 
most  wisely  do  they  hasten  to  the  Yosemite.  It  is 
such  a  contrast  with  the  fogs  and  dust  of  San  Fran- 
cisco. It  is  such  a  retreat  from  the  banking-house 
and  the  ball-room,  from  rivalries  and  passion  fevers. 

Few  investments  bring  in  so  large  returns  as  money 
and  time  devoted  to  absolute  rest  amid  the  grand- 
eurs of  mountain  or  of  ocean,  amid  the  calmness 
of  storm-sheltered  valley  or  the  bracing  breezes  of 
upland  cottage.  In  our  age  of  high  pressure,  from 
our  cities  with  their  uttermost  of  artificial  and  flip- 
pant pleasures,  O,  it  is  good  to  fly  away  to  nature,  to 
honest,  frank,  and  tranquilizing  nature  !  Away  to  na- 
ture to  gather  the  wild  flower  and  chase  the  wild 
bird !  To  lose  yourself  in  the  wood  primeval,  or 
plunge  into  the  cafion  amid  the  ancient  hills ! 
Away  to  sunbeams  untainted  by  the  smoke  of  fac- 
tories and  winds  unsoiled  by  the  dust  of  crowded 
avenue  and  street !  Away  to  talk  with  the  stars  and 
greet  the  sunrise  and  shake  the  cowslip's  ear  and 
breast  the  breaker  in  the  swift-oared  skiff!  Away 
from  man ! — I  will  not  say  from  woman  ;  for  you  had 
better  take  her  with  you  for  very  many  reasons ! 

Head  and  heart  and  hand  shall  win  a  store  of  health 
there,  wherewith  you  shall  return  to  the  duties  of  the 
home,  and  of  the  store,  and  of  the  counting-house, 


274:         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

with  brain  restored  and  blood  renewed  and  nerve  re- 
strung,  confessing  that,  in  the  language  of  the  im- 
mortal Gougli,  "  It  pays  to  recreate  !  " 

And  for  the  mental  life  God  has  provided.  He  has 
put  us  here  that  we  might  be  educated,  intellectually 
developed,  strengthened,  stimulated,  enriched.  He 
has  put  a  thought  into  every  thing  he  has  made. 
There  is  nothing,  therefore,  thoughtless,  above,  be- 
neath, around  !  "  Sermons  in  stones  "  there  are,  most 
literally  ;  testimonies  to  his  being  and  character  in  the 
rocks ;  poems  in  rippling  rivulets ;  anthems  in  storms  ; 
choruses  in  cataracts ;  psalms  in  zephyrs ;  alleluias  in 
ocean  billows  and  in  forest  tempests  ! 

There,  in  the  Valley,  we  had  the  specialist  in  science, 
and  the  amateur  as  well,  each  endeavoring  to  find 
laws  in  the  facts  of  nature.  There  were  those  whose 
department  of  investigation  included  the  moss,  the 
hyssop,  and  the  cedar.  There  were  those  whose  taste 
led  them  to  the  study  of  the  ant,  the  butterfly,  and 
the  beetle.  There  were  those  whose  sympathies  led 
them  to  the  rocks,  the  rivers,  the  eternal  snow,  the  ac- 
tion of  water,  or  of  fire,  or  of  ice,  of  volcano,  of 
earthquake,  of  flood,  or  of  glacier  upon  the  shape  of 
the  mountain  and  the  depression  of  the  valley. 

Yonder  you  read  the  name  of  Joseph  Hooker  and 
the  autograph  of  the  State  geologist.  I  met,  while 
there,  one  of  the  most  gifted  of  men  of  science,  a 
self-taught  scientist,  a  man  of  most  modest  spirit,  but 
of  most  vigorous  intellect.  He  has  made  the  region 
his  home  for  years.  He  is  perfectly  familiar  with  its 
flora.  Above  all  he  has  studied  its  geological  story. 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  275 

He  has  the  eye  of  a  scientist  and  the  mind  of  a  phi- 
losopher, and  he  has  the  genius  of  a  poet.  When  he 
writes  he  fascinates  by  his  descriptive  power ;  and  Ids 
skill  in  graphic  pictorial  delineation  is  truly  that  of  a 
master.  He  is,  I  thought,  as  I  learned  his  history, 
talked  with  and  listened  to  him,  the  Hugh  Miller  of 
the  Yosemite.  A  Scotchman,  by-the-by,  he  is;  as 
simple  as  a  child  and  as  reverent  as  a  saint.  He  has 
studied  the  architecture  of  the  hills.  He  has  climbed, 
at  peril  of  life,  to  the  region  of  the  glacier.  He  be- 
lieves in  the  action,  not  so  much  of  earthquakes,  in 
cutting  out  or  depressing  the  valley,  as  in  the  slow, 
continuous,  and  potent  action  of  ice,  cleaving,  grind- 
ing, floating,  carving,  molding,  polishing  the  hoary 
granite.  And  those  who  have  listened  to  his  facts 
and  reasoning  are  much  disposed  to  adopt  his  theory. 
None  meet  him  but  to  feel  his  magnetic  spell ;  and 
doubtless,  soon  or  late,  the  scientific  world  will 
hear  of,  and  delight  to  confer  justly  merited  honors 
upon  the  massive  and  well-balanced  brow  of  John 
Mnir. 

Within  that  Valley  might,  therefore,  have  been 
seen  illustrated  the  relations  of  the  physical  universe 
to  the  intellect  of  man. 

The  material  and  the  organic  in  nature  serve  a  lofty 
purpose  when  they  teach  the  greatest  of  pupils — man. 
For  this  end,  certainly,  were  they  fashioned.  From 
a  Thinker  they  emanated  ;  therefore  is  nature  full  of 
thoughts.  Therefore  may  man,  the  thinker,  obey  the 
command  of  Job  when  he  says,  "  Go  to  the  earth  and 

ehe  shall  teach  thee." 
19 


276  GUAJKD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Whence  what  we  call  SCIENCE  ?  From  the  facts,  the 
forms,  the  motions,  the  colors,  and  the  relations  of 
nature.  Science  is  man's  correct  interpretation  of  the 
meaning  of  nature.  Science  is  possible  because  na- 
ture is  the  production  of  a  Planner,  whose  thoughts 
have  been  wrought  into  the  texture  and  the  structure 
of  the  plan  of  nature.  Searching  out  nature,  we  are 
convinced  of  the  success  attendant  upon  our  search 
only  when  behind  nature  and  before  nature  we  see  a 
Thinker  working  out  his  thoughts  in  the  majestic 
system  of  the^universe. 

In  every  upheaved  peak  ;  in  every  geometric  snow- 
flake  ;  in  every  veined  leaf  ;  in  every  lustrous  wing  ; 
in  every  sweep  of  ocean  billow ;  in  every  swell  of 
landscape  ;  in  every  hue  of  shrub  ;  in  every  rush  of 
cataract ;  in  every  tinted  cloudlet ;  in  every  globe  of 
dew ;  in  every  march  of  tlmnder-storm ;  in  every 
smooth-lipped  shell ;  in  every  adaptation  of  plant  to 
soil,  of  insect  to  temperature,  of  food  to  wild  goat, 
we  behold  thought.  We,  therefore,  may  construct  a 
science  which  shall  be  the  reflection  from  the  human 
mind  of  the  conceptions  wrought  into  the  creation  by 
the  divine,  the  infinite  Intelligence.  That  the  human 
intelligence  may  converse  with  the  divine,  nature  is. 
Nature  exists,  the  permanent  medium  of  intellectual 
intercourse  between  Creator  and  creature.  God  spake 
all  the  words  of  this  vast  volume,  and  left  the  folio 
that  through  this  his  child  might  talk  with  him, 
hence  win  instruction,  and  thus  unfold  his  latent 
faculties  and  begin  his  never-ending  growth  in  knowl- 
edge, wisdom,  beauty. 


THE  YOSEMITE  AND  ITS  LESSONS.  277 

And  to  develop  to  the  utmost  all  man's  mental 
powers,  see  what  provision  the  Infinite  One  has  made ! 
The  power  of  comparison  is  called  into  play ;  for 
there  is  resemblance.  The  power  of  discrimination  is 
called  into  play ;  for  there  is  dissimilarity.  The 
power  of  generalization  is  called  into  play  ;  for  there 
is  unity  of  plan  and  method.  For  man  is  analytic, 
synthetic,  and  philosophic,  as  a  thinker  and  observer. 

Moreover,  effort  is  necessary  to  the  full  develop- 
ment of  man's  mental  nature.  Concentration  of 
thought  is  called  for.  The  sovereign  force  called  at- 
tention is  demanded.  Not  by  any  effort,  howsoever 
will-less,  can  he  win  in  the  race  of  discovery.  Not  by 
any  method,  howsoever  methodless,  can  he  extract  the 
secret  of  the  mystery.  Earnestness  must  characterize 
him.  Vigor,  even  to  intensity  of  resolve,  must  im- 
pel him.  "  As  for  hid  treasure  "  must  he  pursue  his 
quest.  Sweat  of  brow,  and  wrinkle  as  well,  shall 
proclaim  him  a  stalwart  and  valorous  chieftain  in  the 
struggle  to  achieve  the  mastery  of  nature's  meaning. 
Into  the  far  depths  of  midnight  shall  he  push  his  in- 
vestigation, as  from  minaret  or  watch-tower  he  peers 
into  the  calm  and  silent  skies.  Up  ere  the  roseate 
aurora  hath  bathed  the  valley  in  its  flood's  elixir  shall 
lie  be  found  bending  over  his  crucible.  Out  'mid 
snows  and  torrents,  down  through  Alpine  valleys  or 
the  miner's  sunless  corridors  shall  he  press  on  with 
foot  persistent.  For  only  thus  may  yonder  temple 
dedicated  to  truth  see  him  pass  within  its  portals  and 
seated  beside  its  sons  as  one  of  the  laureled  victors  in 
the  good  fight  for  truth. 


273         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Here  is  one  of  nature's  noblest  services :  to  wake 
mind  into  sleeplessness  ;  to  move  mind  into  restless 
activity ;  to  excite  in  mind  insatiate  appetites ;  to 
slake  the  thirst  of  mind  for  truth  by  knowledge,  and 
yet  create  a  thirst  more  fiery ;  to  dare  mind  into  a 
mood  of  conquest ;  to  enkindle  wonder,  admiration, 
rapture  in  the  pursuit  as  in  the  acquisition  ;  to  lift  the 
infantile  into  the  masculine  ;  to  knit  the  loosely  hung 
into  the  compactness  of  a  mailed  mediaeval  knight, 
by  hardy  and  enduring  effort ;  to  broaden  the  soul's 
capacity,  and  deepen  it  as  well ;  to  light  the  eye  with 
the  quenchless  luster  of  intelligence ;  and  thus  train 
the  children  of  the  King  Eternal  for  the  august  func- 
tions which  await  them  when,  of  full  age,  they  shall 
"  have  dominion  "  and  "  inherit  all  things  !  " 

We  have  here  suggested  the  provisions  made  by 
our  Creator  for  our  emotional  nature.  Our  emotions 
are  various.  There  are  emotions  arrestive,  such  as 
wonder,  curiosity ;  emotions  acquisitive,  as  thirst  for 
knowledge,  for  power,  for  wealth  ;  emotions  benevo- 
lent, such  as  pity,  compassion  ;  emotions  impartative, 
such  as  prompt  us  to  communicate  knowledge  ;  emo- 
tions perfective,  such  as  cry  out  for  faultlessness,  for 
grandeur,  for  the  beautiful.  Now  for  these  last 
named  there  is  an  opulent  provision.  "  The  beau- 
tiful," "  the  sublime,"  are  to  be  met  with  every-where. 
The  mere  necessary  is  not  all.  There  are  the  luxuries 
of  life  and  of  heart  as  well. 

"  What  a  God  is  ours  ! "  must  be  the  spontaneous 
expression  of  heart  and  lip. 

And  I  would  like  to  conclude  by  leaving  the  same 


THE  YOSEMTTE  AOT>  ITS  LESSONS.          279 

impression  upon  your  hearts  that  the  Valley  left  on 
mine.  Every  thing  seemed  to  suggest  God.  ^ 

As  I  gazed  upon  the  massive  battlements  rearing 
their  heads  to  the  heavens;  when  I  remembered  He  up- 
heaved these  gigantic  masses,  I  thought  of  his  power : 
"  He  girdeth  the  mountains  with  strength  ; "  "  The 
strength  of  the  hills  is  his  also  ;  "  "  He  toucheth  the 
hills  and  they  smoke."  And  I  thought,  too,  this 
power  is  ours !  For,  "  as  the  mountains  are  round 
about  Jerusalem,  so  is  he  about  his  people."  And  as 
they  are  changeless — "  the  lasting  hills  " — even  so 
"  His  righteousness  is  as  the  great  mountains,"  im- 
movable. "When  I  thought  of  their  age  I  remem- 
bered his  eternity :  "  Before  the  mountains  were 
brought  forth,  thou  art  God ! " 

See  here  in  the  Valley  his  goodness !  In  all  he 
gives  what  gladness  he  imparts  !  See  it  in  the  sun- 
shine and  in  the  star  ;  in  the  bliss  of  the  eye  and  the 
rapture  of  the  ear ;  in  the  joys  of  friendship  and  in 
the  rejoicing  of  a  good  conscience :  in  the  pleasant 
odors  of  the  grove  and  in  the  delectations  of  the  fruit 
of  vine,  and  peach,  and  orange  ;  in  the  exultation  of 
the  discoverer  and  in  the  ecstacies  of  the  seeker  after 
laws  more  subtle,  more  ample,  and  more  profound  ; 
in  the  delight  felt  when  gazing  upon  the  clouds  which 
chariot  the  sun  across  the  skyey  pathway,  and  when 
tracing  the  serpentine  meanderings  of  tranquil  rivers 
through  emerald  meadows,and  'neath  nodding  willows, 
and  past  daisied  banks.  Can  we  refrain  from  exclaim- 
ing, •'  O  how  great  is  thy  goodness,  and  how  great  is 
thy  beauty ! " 


280         GUAKD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Thus  every  thing  in  the  Valley  suggests  God.  If 
the  ^lley  can  be  thus  thought  of,  it  is  no  less  than  a 
temple.  If  the  Yosemite  be  but  the- vestibule,  what 
must  the  palace  of  the  Great  King  be  ?  If  it  be  but  a 
part  of  his  footstool,  what  must  the  throne  be  2  If  it 
be  but  the  outer  court,  what  shall  it  be  within  the 
veil  where  we  shall  dwell  for  evermore  ? 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  281 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.* 

A  LLOW  me  to  say  (what  you  have  often  heard  re- 
J\.  peated  by  the  many  visitors  to  your  State  and 
city)  how  much  I  have  been  surprised,  amazed,  de- 
lighted with  the  many  wonders,  beauties,  and  excel- 
lences of  your  Golden  State  and  its  metropolis.  Your 
all  but  perfect  climate  ;  your  fabulously  productive 
soil ;  your  f raits  worthy  of  Paradise  before  "  the 
fall ; "  your  hills  veined  with  silver  and  aglow  with 
gold ;  your  bay,  land-locked,  picturesque,  and  spa- 
cious enough  to  harbor  the  fleets  of  many  nations ; 
the  access  to  your  city,  both  by  land  and  water ;  the 
perils  of  flood  you  have  survived ;  the  perils  of  fire 
above  which  you  have  risen,  so  as  to  warrant  me  in 
applying  to  you  two  lines  of  one  of  Charles  Wesley's 
hymns : 

Like  Moses'  bush  you  mounted  higher, 
Arid  flourished  unconsumed  in  fire. 

And  there  is,  though  last-named,  not  least  in  impor- 
tance, your  flourishing  association.  I  am  delighted  to 
learn  that  this  association  is  all  but  as  old  as  your  city, 
and  within  two  years  of  the  age  of  its  sister  associa- 
tion in  New  York.  Every  thing  in  the  title  of  the 
society  is  suggestive. 

*  Delivered  at  the  twenty-second  anniversary  of  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Association  of  San  Francisco,  Sept.  19,  1875. 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  A*ND  ADDRESSES. 

It  is  an  association.  Wherever  we  turn,  we  meet 
with  association ;  there  is  nothing  alone  in  the  uni- 
verse. Matter  displays  the  association  of  chemical 
affinities,  and  is  subject  to  the  sway  of  that  of  gravita- 
tion, whereby  stellar  and  solar  systems  are  fashioned. 
There  is  not  a  star  that  is  not  one  of  a  group ;  nor  a 
comet  that  is  not  one  of  a  brotherhood  ;  nor  a  sun  that 
is  not  part  of  a  galaxy.  Atom  is  bound  to  atom ; 
gas  commingles  with  gas ;  dewdrop  clusters  with  dew- 
drop  ;  mountain  leans  on  mountain  ;  ant  wrorks  with 
ant ;  grasshopper  marches  o'er  valley  and  plain,  one 
of  a  myriad  host  of  destroyers;  buffaloes  troop  in 
herds,  and  wild  fowl  wing  their  flight  from  northern 
to  southern  feeding-grounds  in  squadrons  and  battal- 
ions. Isolation  is  unknown — from  lowest  existence 
up  to  the  bright  and  beatific  hosts  who  cry  out  and 
shout :  "  Our  fellowship  is  with  the  Father,  and  with 
His  Son,  Jesus  Christ."  Pre-eminently  is  this  a 
characteristic  of  humanity.  The  home  is  the  initial 
stage  of  the  law ;  the  citizenship  of  a  tribe  or  nation 
is  a  further  stage ;  and  the  fraternity  of  the  Church  of 
Christ  is  the  highest  earthly  stage.  The  age  we  live 
in  owes  not  a  little  of  its  greatness  and  its  glory  to 
the-  sovereignty  of  this  principle. 

The  commerce  which  gives  its  vessels  to  plow  every 
sea  with  their  keels,  and  utilize  every  breeze  with 
their  sails,  is  the  fruit  of  association. 

The  science  which  plucks  from  the  ocean  its  mys- 
tery; from  the  lightning  its  meaning;  from  the  sun- 
beam its  message  ;  from  the  forest  its  wonder ;  from 
the  "  ancient  hills  "  their  story ;  from  life  its  laws, 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  233 

and  from  death  its  lessons ;  the  science  which  hath 
tracked  the  meteor,  and  heaved  the  lead  in  the  abys- 
mal depth  of  the  human  spirit — this  science  is  none 
other  than  the  fruit  of  association.  Humboldt  works 
together  with  Livingstone,  Herschel  labors  side  by 
side  with  Agassiz,  Kant  toils  a  bond-slave  with  Ham- 
ilton, Darwin  is  yoked  with  Dana,  Stuart  Mill  cheers 
on  Spencer ;  association  is  their  law. 

And  liberty  is  a  fruit  of  the  same  great  force.  If 
men  to-day  are  freer  than  they  ever  were — if  larger 
numbers  of  men  are  freer  than  they  ever  were 
— why  is  this  so  ?  Not  by  one  brave  hero's  toil,  or 
trials,  or  triumphs,  hath  this  been  won.  Essayist 
wrote  to  win  this ;  poet  sang  to  win  this ;  sage  pro- 
pounded to  win  this ;  artist  painted  to  win  this ;  his- 
torian penned  his  glowing  paragraph  to  win  this ; 
martyr  patriot  fought  and  bled,  rotted  in  dungeons, 
and  climbed  the  scaffold  to  win  this ;  Hampden  and 
Sidney,  Locke  and  Washington,  Lafayette  and  Gari- 
baldi, yielded  their  sweat  of  brain  and  sweat  of  heart 
to  water  the  immortal  seeds  of  that  tree  of  liberty 
beneath  whose  ample  and  grateful  shadows  we  find 
a  sanctuary  to-night.  Our  freedom  is  the  fruit  of 
association.  And  indeed,  so  convinced  are  tyrants  of 
the  power  to  upheave  their  throne,  lurking  in  and 
ready  to  leap  forth  from  associations,  that  they  bend 
their  utmost  efforts  and  energies  to  the  purpose  of 
breaking  up  all  such  bands  of  conspirators  against 
their  dynasties  of  despotism.  It  is  one  of  the  sure 
and  certain  evidences  of  the  reign  of  freedom  when 
associations  multiply  unchecked  for  the  defense  and 


28-1         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

propagation  of  opinion.  They  are  the  terror  of  ty- 
rants, they  are  the  favorite  offspring  of  liberty.  And 
inasmuch  as  all  associations  make  their  members  very 
much  purer,  and  nobler,  and  braver  men  than  they 
would  otherwise  be,  or  else  very  much  baser,  and 
fouler,  and  falser,  no  one  can  hear  of  a  new  associa- 
tion with  indifference  or  without  some  measure  of 
interest. 

Such  is  the  strength  of  association  that  even  the 
Anarch  of  Pandemonium  recognizes  it.  He  has  a 
kingdom.  He  is  not  so  foolish  as  to  be  "divided 
against  himself."  "Distinct  as  the  billows,  yet  one 
as  the  sea,"  his  forces  rally  round  his  dusky  banner, 
catch  his  will,  and  hasten  forth  to  further  his  be- 
hests by  strewing  the  earth  with  havoc  spoils.  So 
also  one  man  "chases  a  thousand,"  but,  such  is  the 
might  of  union,  two  shall  put,  not  two,  but  "  ten 
thousand  to  flight."  The  advent  of  Christianity  tes- 
tifies to  the  same  principle,  for  there  the  disciples 
were  all  "with  one  accord  in  one  place."  Associa- 
tion— it  is  a  confluence  of  many  streams ;  it  is  a 
gathering  of  many  forces ;  it  is  a  combination  of 
many  talents;  it  is  a  concentration  of  diversified 
experiences.  And  if  in  union  there  is  strength  for 
good  or  evil,  how  solemn  the  state  of  mind  in  which 
we  ought  to  contemplate  an  addition  to  the  associa- 
tions of  the  age  such  as  this ! 

For  it  is  an  association  of  young  men. 

Ha !  What  a  magic  in  the  words  "  young  men  ! " 
Who  would  not  be  a  young  man !  What  snowy- 
headed  sage  would  not  be  again  a  young  man !  What 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  285 

a  halo  of  romance  encircles  the  brow  of  a  young  man  ! 
What  hopes  cluster  around  him !  What  hearts  beat 
deep  and  high  by  reason  of  his  possibilities !  What 
forces  lurk,  what  founts  of  poetry  lie  unsealed  within 
his  breast !  What  perils  haunt  his  pathway  !  What 
gins  and  traps  are  spread  and  laid  for  his  unwary 
feet !  What  baits  are  held  forth  to  lure  him !  What 
seductive  voices  float  in  upon  his  ear !  What  mere- 
tricious visions  swim  in  upon  his  imagination  ?  What 
impulses  heave  him !  What  passions  thrill  and  throb 
his  being !  To  what  a  height  may  he  hew  his  way ! 
With  what  a  robe  of  honor  may  he  fold  his  spirit ! 
From  what  a  throne  of  moral  kingship  may  he  not 
dispread,  and  through  what  ages  may  he  not  transmit 
his  influence !  He  touches  chords  that  shall  vibrate 
throughout  eternity.  He  is  beginning  to  form  char- 
acter. Whose  ?  His  own  pre-eminently,  as  well  as 
others.  All  things  wait  upon  him  to  serve  him,  to 
ennoble,  to  enfranchise,  to  adorn  his  character.  What 
will  he  do  with  himself  ?  How  does  he  purpose  using 
himself?  To  what  depths  shall  he  descend?  With 
what  foulness  shall  he  clothe  himself?  How  far 
from  God  shall  he  drift,  drift,  drift,  driven  by  the  de- 
moniac passions  of  falsehood  and  foulness  ?  How  soon 
shall  all  tenderness  pass  away,  all  beauty  vanish,  all 
truth  give  up  the  ghost,  and  all  manhood  be  pawned 
for  pleasure  the  most  sensual,  and  his  very  soul,  like 
Cleopatra's  jewel,  be  dissolved  in  the  swine -trough 
of  debauchery,  until  only  the  omniscient  God  shall  be 
able  to  detect  amid  the  utter  spoliation  evidence  the 
most  filmy  that  such  a  monster  was  once  a  man ! 


286  GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES 

As  an  association  of  "  young  men  "  it  commands 
our  attention,  it  elicits  our  sympathy.  It  must  either 
benefit  or  curse  them.  Association  is  not  always  and 
absolutely  beneficial.  Men  do  not  always  encourage 
one  another  to  noble  deeds  and  honorable  principles 
in  their  associations.  Not  unfreqnently  they  meet  to 
frame  iniquity  by  a  law,  to  concoct  schemes  of  plun- 
der, to  devise  methods  for  corruption  of  morals  and 
the  seduction  of  the  innocent.  Their  chambers  of 
assembly  may  witness  the  rapid  flight  of  shuttles, 
weaving  webs  of  cunning  workmanship,  wherewith 
to  enmesh  the  raw,  and  crude,  and  simple-minded. 
What  is  the  guarantee  of  safety  ?  The  peril  of  as- 
sociation is  lessened  by  another  thought  suggested 
by  the  third  term  in  the  title  of  the  association. 

It  is  " a  Young  Men's  CHRISTIAN  Association" 

Yes,  this  is  the  guarantee  of  safety.  An  association 
formed  upon,  and  framed  to  promote  Christian  prin- 
ciples, and  abiding  under  the  sanction  of  the  Divine 
Founder  of  Christianity.  This  tranquilizes  our  fears 
and  allays  our  anxieties. 

From  what  we  know  of  our  Christian  religion  we 
unhesitatingly  assert,  a  society  steeped  in  the  spirit  of 
Christianity,  and  true  to  the  same,  cannot  but  be 
beautiful  in  the  truest  and  best  sense.  For  we  are 
not  in  the  dark  as  to  what  our  faith  is,  as  to  what 
it  teaches,  as  to  what  it  leads.  We  have  but  to 
study  it  in  the  life  and  in  the  teachings  of  its  Founder 
to  be  assured  that  it  is  the  friend  of  all  that  is  just ; 
the  patron  of  all  that  is  pure;  the  parent  of  all 
that  is  "  lovely  and  of  good  report ; "  that  it  is 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  287 

God's  own  last,  fullest  expression  of  peace  and  good 
will  to  man.  Christ  is  Christianity — in  essence,  in 
spirit,  in  embodied  power.  He  lived  out  his  own 
peerless  teaching,  leaving  us  an  example  that  we 
should  tread  in  his  steps. 

A  system  called  by  his  name  cannot  but  respect, 
if  not  revere,  humanity.  It  must  be  lustrous  with 
the  loveliness  of  Him  who  was  fairer  than  the  chil- 
dren of  men ;  in  whom  was  no  guile — who  was  the 
friend  of  publicans  and  sinners ;  who  saved  not 
himself — pleased  not  himself — that  he  might  save 
others.  There  shall  be  nothing  mean  in  it ;  for  he 
was  magnanimity.  There  can  be  nothing  false  in 
it ;  for  he  was  truth  unadulterated.  There  can 
be  nothing  foul ;  for  he  was  holy,  harmless,  unde- 
filed.  There  can  be  nothing  harsh ;  for  he  was 
meek  and  lowly  in  spirit.  There  can  be  nothing 
bigoted ;  there  can  be  nothing  sectarian ;  for  he 
spake  the  parable  of  the  man  who  fell  among  thieves, 
and  received  favor  from  a  Samaritan.  There  can  be 
nothing  fastidious  in  philanthropy;  for  he  forgave 
"  the  woman  who  was  a  sinner."  He  cared  for  men's 
bodies,  and  so  does  this  association.  He  cared  for 
men's  heart  sorrows,  and  was  the  friend  of  the  death- 
bereaved  family  of  Bethany ;  and  so  does  this  associa- 
tion. He  cared  for  men's  soul — his  whole  life  and 
death  were  given  to  this  object — and  so  does  this  as- 
sociation. 

No ;  we  are  not  afraid  of  this  society.  It  is  salt 
in  the  midst  of  corruption.  It  is  light  in  the  midst 
of  moral  gloom.  It  is  a  shelter  for  defensclessness. 


288         GUARD'S  LBCTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

It  is  a  home  for  forlorn  and  forgotten  ones.  It  is  a 
temple  whence  flow  living  waters,  whose  rivulets 
touch  and  turn  barrenness  and  aridity  into  blooming 
garden  and  verdant  vale. 

All  hail !  all  hail !  we  cry  out  and  shout  from  the 
bottom  of  our  hearts :  live ;  live  long ;  live  vigorous- 
ly ;  live  honored  ;  live  beloved ;  live  to  multiply  in 
numbers,  in  power,  in  influence ;  live  "  forever  bless- 
ing and  forever  blest ! " 

I,  for  one,  tender  this  association  my  most  sincere 
sympathy,  and  whatever  of  practical  aid  it  may  be  in 
my  power  to  render,  because  of  its  eminently  catholic 
spirit. 

True,  I  love  my  own  garden ;  I  love  to  pluck  a 
tinted  flower  from  its  odorous  beds ;  I  love  to  saunter 
beneath  its  orange  grove ;  I  love  to  linger  near  its 
mimic  cascade,  and  bend  over  its  fern-margined  pond 
where  gold-fish  sport  and  lilies  float.  But  I  do  also 
take  delight  in  visiting  my  neighbor's  conservatory ; 
and  can  revel  in  the  luxuries  of  his  tropic  plants  and 
palms  ;  regale  my  taste  from  the  purple  cluster  of  his 
generous  vines ;  and  cherish  a  healthy  rivalry  of  prod- 
uce in  all  that  can  minister  delectation  to  sight  or 
smell.  And  I  love,  as  well,  to  hie  away  beyond  gar- 
den wall  and  hedgerow,  and  lose  myself  within  the 
mazes  of  a  people's  park,  where  the  free  winds  sport, 
and  the  unwindowed  sunlight  bathes  wide  acres  of 
shrubbery  and  pensive  glade  or  gentle  undulation  in 
its  ample  wave,  and  then  robes  them  in  its  cloth  of 
gold. 

To  me,  such  is  this  Association    in  its  reach  of 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  2S9 

principles  and  in  its  range  of  purpose  ;  and  I  there- 
fore wish  it  Godspeed. 

I  have  been  requested  to  address  some  remarks 
specially  adapted  to  the  young  men  who  may  be  pres- 
ent to-night.  I  do  so  with  an  earnest  prayer  that 
something  said  may  reach  some  heart,  and  win  some 
wanderer  unto  ways  of  righteousness  and  peace. 

Young  men,  we  want  vou  for  our  Lord  and  Mas- 

c>  *  t/ 

ter's  service.  The  Church  needs  you.  Her  Head 
looks  to  you.  The  future  of  our  religious  life  and  of 
our  country's  weal  is  at  your  disposal.  In  the  strug- 
gle for  the  truth,  swiftly  drawing  nigh,  we  wish  to 
feel  that  you  follow  "  the  banner  to  be  displayed  be- 
cause of  the  truth."  That  struggle  is  imminent.  The 
hosts  are  mustering.  The  plan  of  the  campaign  even 
now  lies  mapped  before  our  antagonists.  The  chief- 
tains in  the  ranks  of  our  fold  are  bronzed  warriors — 
cool,  calm,  clear-visioned.  The  battle  shall  not  be 
with  tramp  of  war-horse,  or  peal  of  clarion,  or  rush 
of  scythed  chariot,  or  plumed  helmet,  or  glittering 
spear.  No  ;  the  weapons  are  of  substance  more 
ethereal ;  but  the  combat  is,  therefore,  the  more 
fierce  and  stern.  Principles  !  Principles  !  Thought ! 
Spirit ! — these  are  the  implements  and  enginery  of 
the  struggle.  Despotism  against  Freedom  !  Priest- 
craft against  Manhood  !  The  struggle  shall  thicken 
around  the  corner-stone  of  our  republican  institu- 
tions— our  public  and  free  school  system.  To  pluck 
that  from  its  "coign  of  vantage,"  and  then  hasten 
and  look  for  the  crash  of  the  stately  edifice  of  our 
national  liberty — this  is  the  sworn  object  of  our 


290         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

foes.  And  for  its  accomplishment  they  are  resolved 
to  subsidize  aid  from  heaven  an'd  earth  and  hell. 
We  would  have  you  swell  our  ranks ;  we  would  have 
you  fitted  for  the  hour  of  trial. 

We  would,  therefore,  persuade  you  to-night  to  de- 
cision. With  many  of  you,  all  you  need  is  decision 
for  Christ.  You  know  your  duty — more  light  is  un- 
necessary. It  is  yours  to  step  out  from  the  ranks  of 
ungodliness  and  become  now,  at  once,  enrolled  with 
the  hosts  who  serve  the  God  of  your  mothers.  Why 
not  ?  You  would  live  a  consistent  life,  you  tell  us. 
You  cannot  bear  the  thought  of  inconsistency.  Your 
sense  of  honorable  manhood  shrinks  from  such  a  pos- 
sibility. And,  from  what  you  know  of  yourself,  and 
of  the  perils  of  a  life  of  disloyalty  to  Christ,  you  see 
no  prospect  of  stability  were  you  to  profess  yourself 
a  member  of  Christ's  Church.  Well,  we  appreciate 
your  sentiments ;  we  admire  your  ideal  of  true  man- 
hood. 

But  let  us  remind  you  of  a  few  facts.  There  is 
danger  from  within  your  heart.  But  decision  se- 
cures for  you  that  renewal  of  your  heart  whereby  you 
become  "  a  new  creature."  Conscience  is  enthroned. 
Will  is  enfranchised.  Heart  is  transformed  by  no 
less  power  than  the  love  of  God  shed  abroad  in  it  by 
the  Holy  Ghost  given  unto  you.  Now,  when  you 
would  do  good,  you  can'  for  you  are  made  free  from 
the  law  of  sin  and  death. 

You  tell  me  of  the  dangers  lurking  in  your  l>ody  / 
of  appetites,  whose  seat  and  instruments  are  there ; 
of  senses,  avenues  of  ill ;  and  that,  with  such,  it  is 


ANNIVERSARY  ADDRESS.  291 

impossible  to  struggle  and  win.  But  your  very  body 
becomes  "  the  temple  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  by  whose 
inworkings  all  its  members  become  servants  of  right- 
eousness ;  every  impulse  is  refined,  every  function 
regulated  by  the  subjugating  and — may  I  say  so? — 
the  sublimating  operation  of  the  "  Spirit  of  Holiness ;" 
so  that  every  particle  of  the  living  frame  shares  in 
the  transferred  purity,  and  becomes  as  precious  in  His 
eye  as  was,  to  the  Jew,  the  dust  of  the  sacred  shrine 
which  once  adorned  Zion's  crest. 

You  tell  me  of  the  devil — of  his  subtlety,  his  viru- 
lence, his  experience ;  of  the  hosts  with  him ;  the  re- 
lentless hate  they  cherish,  and  the  unwearying,  pause- 
less  purpose  they  pursue  with  a  persistency  indomita- 
ble and  a  resolve  unyielding  as  the  laws  which  bind 
the  spheres.  They  know  him — who  he  is.  They 
crouch  at  his  footstool ;  they  tremble  at  his  glance. 
And  against  their  hosts  we  ask  your  open  vision  to 
behold  the  squadron  of  the  sons  of  light.  For  every 
lance  hurled  by  hell  there  is  a  seraph  shield  to  catch 
and  shiver  it.  For  every  falchion  thrust  there  is  an 
angel  scimiter,  of  edge  as  keen  and  temper  as  high, 
wielded  by  hand  as  skillful,  and  guided  by  eye  as 
quick,  as  vigilant,  as  swift  to  parry,  as  strong  to  shat- 
ter; for,  "are  they  not  all  ministering  spirits  sent 
forth  to  minister  to  them  who  are  the  heirs  of  sal- 
vation ? " 

You  tell  me  of  the  power  of  the  society  by  which 
you  are  encompassed — its  blandishments;  its  scorn; 
its  bitter  mockery,  taunt,  sarcasm.  True,  these  are 

vigorous  forces ;  they  have  won  full  many  .a  victory. 
20 


292         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Sturdy  is  the  spirit  equal  to  their  onslaught.  To  en- 
dure such  contradiction  of  sinners  with  meekness ;  to 
return  good  for  evil ;  to  rein  back  the  soul  and  in  pa- 
tience possess  it,  implies  no  mean  portion  of  the  mar- 
tyr's spirit.  But  we  remind  you  of  the  brotherhood 
of  the  Christian  Church  prepared  to  welcome,  and 
ready  to  give  you  scope  for  your  new  activities,  and 
channel  for  your  new  affections.  There  may  you  find 
companionship ;  there  obtain  sympathy,  and  amid 
such  fellowship  wax  courageous,  and  acquit  you  like 
men.  The  friendship  of  the  world  abandoned,  lo ! 
there  is  the  friendship  of  the  excellent  of  the  earth,  at 
once  your  solace  and  your  shelter. 

You  mention  the  power  of  "  things  seen  " — the  vis- 
ible, the  palpable,  around,  above  you — such  as  Satan 
dispread  before  the  eye  of  our  Great  Master — the 
pomps  and  pleasures  of  this  present  evil  world.  We 
admit  it  all.  But  the  Christian  is  one  endowed  with 
a  sixth  sense.  He  is  a  clairvoyant  in  the  deepest 
meaning  of  the  word.  He  lives,  he  walks,  he  endures, 
he  conquers — "by  FAITH."  This  soul-faculty  pierces 
the  clouds  and  veils  of  sense ;  places  the  spirit  under 
the  sovereignty  of  things  not  seen ;  gives  substance, 
reality,  definiteness  to  them.  By  its  constant  action 
the  potencies  of  the  invisible  play  upon  you ;  pervade 
you ;  uplift,  impel  you ;  brace,  nerve  you.  In  their 
presence  earth  relaxes  its  grasp;  the  splendors  of 
sense  fade  and  blanch;  the  pleasures  and  pains  of 
time  dwindle  and  minify;  eternity  in  all  its  august- 
ness,  grandeur,  sways  the  soul ;  life  swells  into  pro- 
portions worthy  of  such  realities ;  character  assumes 


ANNIVERSARY    ADDRESS. 

a  measure  and  stature  congruous  with  such  immensi- 
ties. The  wonder  then  is,  not  that  we  should  endure, 
but  that  we  should  FAIL  to  come  off  "  MOKE  THAN  CON- 
QUERORS," seeing  "we  look  not  at  things  seen,  for 
they  are  temporal,  Tbut  at  the  things  that  are  not 
seen,  for  they  are  eternal." 

My  brother,  become  one  with  Jesus  Christ  through 
humble  submission  to  and  hearty  acceptance  of  him, 
and  you  step  within  a  more  than  enchanted  circle, 
and  become  the  focus  of  all  the  forces  of  God's  moral 
empire ;  upon  you  they  shall  center,  on  your  behalf 
combine ;  on  your  unsealed  ear  there  shall  float  from 
the  realms  of  light,  as  the  sound  of  many  waters,  the 
choral  shout :  "  We  know  that  all  things  work  together 
for  yood  to  them  that  love  God"  Then,  Creation  ful- 
fills its  purpose,  Providence  realizes  its  design,  Re- 
demption achieves  its  end  in  you.  Every  step  you 
take  shall  be  a  triumph ;  every  note  you  utter,  a  con- 
queror's ode.  Habit  shall  strengthen  you.  Peril 
shall  educate  you.  Toil  shall  harden  you.  The  law 
of  development  shall  work  in  and  through  you.  It 
dotli  not  yet  appear  what  you  shall  be ;  and,  passing 
hence  in  God's  good  time,  your  character  shall  pro- 
claim you  "  meet  to  be  partakers  of  the  inheritance 
of  the  saints  in  light."  Should  such  be  the  issue  of 
this  night's  appeal,  then  you  shall  have  cause  for 
eternal  thanksgiving,  that  you  were  permitted  to  take 
part  in  the  twenty-second  anniversary  of  this  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association. 


294          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.* 


has  not  been  any  dearth  of  exhibitions  in 
JL  our  metropolis  during  the  last  few  months.  I  can- 
not imagine  a  type  of  taste  for  which  exhibitions  have 
not  most  liberally  catered. 

There  have  been  political  exhibitions,  and  of  these 
a  greater  variety  than  the  creative  genius  of  America 
has  ever  before  dared  to  produce  ;  indeed,  no  less  than 
a  perfect  quartet  —  soprano,  alto,  tenor,  bass.  I  shall 
not  venture  to  say  which  is  soprano,  and  I  shrink  from 
suggesting  which  is  the  bass  ;  nor  am  I  prepared  to 
say  to  what  concord  of  sweet  sounds  this  quartet 
may  yet  constrain  us  to  hearken.  The  air  around  us 
is  tremulous  with  melody,  and  the  symphonic  billows 
of  this  political  quartet  break  in  silver  spray  upon 
Mt.  Shasta's  slopes,  blend  congenially  with  the  hid- 
eous howlings  of  the  Cliff-House  lions,  swell  the  ca- 
dence of  the  Yernal  and  Yosemite  falls,  and  die  into 
silence  amid  the  murmurs  of  the  honey-laden  bees 
that  haunt  the  orange  gardens  of  the  City  of  the 
Angels. 

And  then  there  has  been  the  far-famed  Pedestrian 
Exhibition  in  the  great  pavilion  of  this  Association. 

*  The  substance  of  an  address  delivered  at  the  Grand  Opera  House, 
San  Francisco,  upon  the  occasion  of  the  opening  of  the  Mechanics' 
Institute  Fair,  September,  1879. 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  N.AN.  295 

"Who  lias  not  heard  of  that  exhibition  ?  From  what 
classes  of  society  were  spectators  not  drawn,  to  wit- 
ness the  sublime  feats  of  the  contestants  for  the  dia- 
mond belt  ?  Who  among  us  is  competent  to  describe 
the  extremely  salutary  influence  of  that  pedal  dis- 
play ?  In  what  a  chastely  fascinating  aspect  it  pre- 
sented woman  !  What  a  winsome  example  it  lifted  to 
the  admiring  gaze  of  "  our  sisters,  and  our  cousins, 
and  our  aunts  ! "  What  a  refining  agency  was  sug- 
gested to  the  lovers  of  American  culture  !  In  what  an 
economic  light  it  placed  the  female  members  of  our 
families  !  "  Hard  times  "  may  become  easy  of  endur- 
ance if  we  can  but  train  the  limbs  of  our  girls  into 
speed  of  motion ;  and,  hushing  all  the  objections 
springing  from  their  pure  and  gentle  bosoms,  urge 
them  to  the  saw-dust  ring  and  the  voluptuous  leers  of 
lewd  gamblers,  where  they  may  barter  away  thg  price- 
less pearl  of  their  womanhood  for  thirty  pieces  of 
silver.  Yes !  ours  is  truly  a  progressive  age  ;  but  it 
behooves  us  narrowly  to  watch  in  what  direction  the 
progress  tends. 

At  last  we  have  reached  our  own  exhibition.  And 
I  congratulate  you  on  this  auspicious  occasion.  Our 
exercises  to-day  are  a  sort  of  prelude,  to  which  I  have 
the  honor  of  contributing  a  note. 

I  am  to  offer  you  a  few  thoughts,  suggested  by  our 
annual  fair.  It  is  impossible  for  any  but  the  most 
frivolously  minded  to  linger  within  the  pavilion  dur- 
ing an  exhibition  such  as  this  without  acquiring  material 
for  most  remunerative  study.  Indeed,  this  is  one  of 
the  many  benefits  which  accrue  from  such  an  institu- 


GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

tion.  It  invites  inquiry ;  it  provokes  discussion ;  it 
wakes  the  mind  from  stupor,  and  impels  it  to  investi- 
gation ;  it  excites  the  fancy ;  it  regales  the  imagina- 
tion; it  refines  the  taste.  And  whatever  elicits 
thought  and  compels  the  mind  into  meditative  mood ; 
whatever  enlarges  the  comprehensive  outlook,  and 
strengthens  the  apprehensive  grasp  of  the  under- 
standing ;  whatever  augments  our  control  over  the 
activities  of  the  mysterious  spirit  within ;  whatever 
gives  us  enfranchisement  from  the  tyranny  of  the 
senses,  and  independence  of  the  pleasures  which  ma- 
terialism ministers ;  whatever  lifts  us  into  the  region 
of  pure  ideas,  and  wings  us  for  flight  o'er  the  serene 
and  luminous  realms  of  truth  and  beauty  ;  commands 
our  most  fervent  gratitude  as  an  educator  of  the  hu- 
man race. ' 

If  you  ask  me  what  is  the  prime  and  most  master- 
ful thought  suggested  by  my  visits  to  "  The  Fair,"  I 
at  once  reply  :  "  The  Sovereignty  of  Man." 

Every-where,  around,  above,  I  recognize  tokens  of 
this ;  I  look  upon  the  tribute  which,  as  a  sovereign, 
man  has  extracted  from  nature.  The  dominion  is  a 
noble,  it  is  a  vast,  it  is  a  varied  one.  Here  in  the 
exhibition  are  proofs  of  man's  sovereignty  over 
winds  and  over  water,  over  light  and  over  heat,  over 
chemic  and  over  mechanic  energies.  From  the 
marching  season  and  the  timely  rains ;  from  the 
hidden  wealth  of  mountains  and  from  the  wealth 
more  real  of  the  generous  soil;  from  the  products 
of  the  forest  and  of  the  flock,  of  the  field  and  of 
the  far-resounding  sea,  man  draws  revenues  and 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  297 

service.  Lightning  is  his  courier,  and  sunlight  his 
artist.  Trade-winds  waft  his  white-winged  argosies, 
and  snows  gather  on  Sierra  crests  to  swell  the  floods 
wherewith  his  ample  acres  shall  be  irrigated.  Flow- 
ers, by  their  weird  alchemy,  transmute  dew  and  gases 
into  aromatic  odors  for  his  delight;  and  change  sun- 
beams and  dull  clays  into  hues  emerald,  purple,  and 
roseate,  wherewith  to  greet  his  kindling  glance,  as 
he  moves  out  to  gaze  upon  an  inheritance,  over 
which  "  far  as  the  breeze  can  bear  the  billow's  foam," 
it  one  day  shall  be  true,  man's  nod  is  empire,  and  his 
footfall  law.  Silkworms  spin  for  him ;  oysters  se- 
crete pearls  for  him ;  for  him  lime  becomes  marble, 
and  carbon,  diamonds;  rocks  are  turned  into  silver, 
and  plants  become  coal.  Rivers  leap  to  light  from 
lofty  fountains  in  the  hearts  of  hoary  hills  that, 
utilizing  the  law  of  gravitation,  man  may  make  them 
turn  his  ponderous  wheels  and  whirl  his  myriad 
spindles.  The  wild  fowl  "nurses"  the  plume  that 
shall  wave  upon  his  victor  helmet ;  and  the  cotton 
and  the  flax  plant  offer  the  fibers  of  which  to  fashion 
the  banners  beneath  whose  folds  he  shall  move  forth 
to  conquest,  or  repose  unharmed  amid  the  fruits  of 
his  free  and  honest  industry.  Force  guards  him — 
sows,  reaps,  threshes,  and  grinds  for  him,  as  in  ages 
past  it  toiled  in  fashioning  his  dwelling-place.  Art 
breathes  inspiration.  Music  reveals  her  mystic  laws 
to  his  modulating  genius.  The  block  becomes  a  thing 
of  beauty.  The  canvas  glows  with  the  tints  and 
flush  of  life.  Arch  and  pillar,  capital  and  dome, 
\pring  from  earth  and  soar  to  heaven,  obedient  to  his 


298          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

all  but  necromantic  touch.  Homer,  wrapped  in  his 
singing  robe,  wet  with  the  dews  of  the  morning  of 
the  ages,  chants  his  immortal  epic,  to  find  in  the 
broadening  centuries  a  whispering  gallery,  round 
which  his  melodies  shall  swell  in  musical  thunder ; 
Dante,  gentle  as  he  is  sublime,  tender  as  he  is  stern — 
a  violet  in  the  rift  of  an  Alpine  glacier,  or  the  "  Vic- 
toria Regia  "  of  the  Middle  Ages  ;  and  Milton,  blind 
with  excess  of  light,  laden  with  the  lore  of  classic 
and  of  sacred  thinkers,  clarified  by  waters  of  sorrow 
and  chastened  by  fires  of  fierce  scorn,  his  harp  upon 
his  shoulder,  daring  the  seraphim  to  a  trial  of  their 
strength  of  passion  and  their  sweep  of  thought — 
these  all  proclaim  the  extent  and  opulence  of  the 
sovereignty  of  man. 

This  sovereignty  is  based  upon  and  maintained  by 
knowledge  of  and  obedience  to  the  laws  of  nature. 

In  our  age  it  is  superfluous  to  attempt  to  prove  the 
unity  and  universality  of  law.  The  truth  is  axiomatic. 
The  gem  and  the  snowflake  are  crystallized  according 
to  law.  The  cloud  floats  and  the  bud  bursts  into 
blossom  in  accordance  with  law.  Atoms  combine, 
birds  migrate,  tears  are  molded,  and  planets  wheel, 
obedient  to  law.  Logicians  reason,  poets  create,  and 
orators  persuade  by  reverence  for  law.  "  Her  voice 
is  the  harmony  of  the  universe,  her  home  the  bosom 
of  God." 

Man  must  rule  nature,  in  stern  and  strict  conform- 
ity to  the  "  constitution  of  nature."  And  so  fault- 
less is  the  constitution  that  no  amendments  are  possible. 
Not  to  amend  nature's  laws,  but  to  know  them  and 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  299 

obey  them,  is  man's  duty,  and  "in  the  keeping  of 
them  "  prove  "  there  is  a  great  reward."  Man  can, 
indeed,  unite  those  laws;  can  effect  a  combination 
of  several  of  them,  and  by  so  much  augment  his 
power.  And  this  is  being  constantly  done.  Every 
building  erected  is  the  result  of  combination  of  many 
laws  of  nature;  every  organ  built  is  another  result 
of  such  combination  of  law's  forces ;  every  telescope 
is  the  product  of  many  laws  in  combination  ;  every 
strong  man  is  a  concentration  of  laws  selected  from 
the  chief  departments  of  nature's  immense  domain. 

This  makes  science  a  necessity.  For,  to  rule,  you 
must  know  the  subjects  ruled — their  numbers,  their 
natures,  the  conditions  of  their  existence  and  well- 
being.  Ignorance  is  incompatible  with  efficient  gov- 
ernment. One  of  the  most  important  points  to  be 
secured  by  the  civil  ruler  is  this :  that  he  know  the 
temper  and  the  habits  and  tone  of  thought  character- 
istic of  the  people  ruled.  The  great  Chatham  knew 
the  English  people ;  and  this  made  him  supreme  in 
the  councils  and  supreme  in  the  affections  of  his  coun- 
trymen, who  loved  to  speak  of  him  as  the  "  Great 
Commoner." 

To  truly  rule  yourself,  it  is  of  highest  importance 
that  you  study  and  seek  to  know  yourself.  There- 
fore, "  the  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man." 

Nor  less  is  this  tnie  of  the  sovereignty  now  spoken 
of.  All  the  sciences  were  included,  therefore,  in  the 
decree,  "  Have  dominion,  replenish  the  earth,  and 
subdue  it."  Study  the  properties  of  plants  and  shrubs, 
of  flowers  and  fruits,  of  grasses  and  herbs.  Botany  is 


300          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

here.  Study  the  properties  of  animals,  of  fishes,  of 
birds,  of  beasts ;  their  habits,  their  foods,  their  in- 
stincts, so  that  they  may  be  utilized  for  commerce  or 
for  domesticated  ends.  Natural  history  is  here.  Study 
the  secrets  of  atmosphere  and  water;  of  heat  and 
light ;  of  soils  and  rocks ;  and  of  the  mutual  in- 
fluences of  all  these  upon  organic  life.  What  is  this 
but  chemistry  ?  And  so  of  the  mechanical  sciences ; 
and  so  of  the  science  of  navigation.  This  at  once 
proclaims  the  sovereignty  of  mind,  thought,  intelli- 
gence ;  and  embraces  all  the  progressive  acquaintance 
with  the  facts  and  the  forces  of  creation,  gained  by 
man  during  his  process  through  the  ages  past  and 
yet  to  come. 

The  clearer  the  mental  eye  of  the  sovereign,  the 
better  equipped  for  the  scepter  of  his  empire.  Thought 
is  the  ruler.  Ideas  are  the  conquerors  of  all  things: 
physical,  political,  moral,  and  religious.  The  man  of 
most  ideas — the  man  who  knows  best  how  to  express 
and  embody  the  greatest  number  of  the  greatest 
thoughts — is,  by  "  divine  right,"  fittest  to  rule. 

All  sovereignty  wielded  by  man  hitherto  has  been 
preceded  by  struggle  and  subjugation.  I  cannot  rule 
myself  unless  I  subdue  myself.  Self-conquest  pre- 
pares the  way  for  self-government.  Full  oft  the 
struggle  to  subdue  involves  awe-inspiring  efforts. 
The  subjugation  of  the  appetite,  of  the  temper,  of 
the  desires,  of  the  tongue,  of  the  senses,  and  of 
the  thoughts.  Ha !  what  battles  are  suggested  by 
words  like  these !  Marathon,  Waterloo,  Bunker 
Hill,  and  Gettysburg — these  are  but  gala  day  fights 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  301 

in  comparison.  No  eye  may  have  witnessed,  no 
stranger  have  been  cognizant  of,  the  strenuous,  stern, 
but  sublime  endeavor  to  put  down  and  o'ermaster, 
so  as  to  rule  the  spirit  with  calmness  and  keep  it  in 
hallowed  harmony.  Only  in  the  blaze  of  the  great 
white  throne,  and  when  crowned  by  the  all-seeing 
One  at  the  last  day,  shall  it  be  known  how  many 
the  heroes  whom  history  never  emblazoned  on  her 
pages,  whom  poets  never  lifted  to  fame  by  their  im- 
perishable odes. 

The  freedom  of  to-day  is  the  fruit  of  struggle. 
Freedom  of  thought  in  society  ;  freedom  of  opinion 
in  religion  ;  freedom  of  action  in  politics — all  secured 
by  straggle.  Tortures  were  endured,  blood  spilled 
like  water,  life  offered  without  stint,  without  com- 
plaint. But  so  the  fetter  melted  from  the  bondsmen ; 
so  the  tyranny  of  superstition  bit  the  dust  of  irre- 
trievable defeat ;  so  the  despotism  of  autocrats  dis- 
solves and  "  leaves  not  a  wrack  behind." 

Even  so  God  wills  it  to  be  in  the  sovereignty  re- 
ferred to  in  niy  theme.  "  Subdue  it,"  he  says,  as  he 
points  to  the  sea  ;  and  man  builds  his  breakwater  and 
floats  his  navies.  "  Subdue  it,"  as  he  points  to  the 
morass ;  and  man  begins  to  drain  it  and  build  his  cause- 
ways o'er  it.  "  Subdue  it,"  as  he  points  to  the  forest ; , 
and  man  wakes  echoes  from  the  primeval  shades  with 
his  axe's,  and  kindles  fires  around  the  venerable  monarch 
of  the  woods.  "  Subdue  it,"  as  he  points  to  the 
Sierras  ;  and  man  cuts  out  his  iron  pathway  o'er  them, 
tunnels  his  course  through  them,  and  waves  his  flag 
of  triumph  upon  their  loftiest  summits.  "  Subdue 


302        GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

it,"  as  lie  points  to  the  lightning  ;  and  man  plants  his 
conductors  to  draw  down  and  tame  its  fire,  and  spreads 
his  wires  that  o'er  them  the  invisible  and  fleet-footed 
force  may  bear  his  message.  "  Subdue  it,"  as  he 
points  to  the  wild  horse  of  the  plains  ;  and  man  puts 
a  bit  in  the  mouth  and  a  bridle  on  the  neck  of  the 
steed,  until  "  a  little  child  shall  lead  him." 

The  struggle  for  existence  and  for  sovereignty, 
implies  and  demands  labor.  Work  is  demanded, 
both  in  the  study  of  the  facts  and  forces  of  nature, 
and  in  the  development'  of  the  physical  resources  of 
nature. 

It  were  a  grievous  mistake  to  imagine  that  none 
save  those  who  fling  the  shuttle  or  drive  the  plow  are 
laborers,  or  workingmen.  Think  you  that  the  brave 
men  who  have  gone  forth  to  explore  and  discover  the 
extent  of  the  domain  given  to  man  for  his  possession 
are  not  members  of  the  guild  of  honest  and  noble 
workmen  !  Livingstone,  Franklin,  Kane,  Baker,  Stan- 
ley— are  these  not  laborers  as  truly  as  the  man  who 
wields  the  hoe  and  hews  down  the  forest  ?  No  men 
have  better  right  to  their  "  spurs  "  than  such  knights 
as  these.  Think  you  that  they  who  follow  the  comet 
or  foretell  its  approach  ;  who  bend  over  the  crucible, 
and  ply  the  scalpel ;  who  untwist  the  sunbeams  and 
analyze  the  light-wave  propelled  by  Sirius  upon  the 
shores  of  our  small  planet ;  that  they  who  read  the 
epitaphs  carved  upon  the  rocky  tombs  of  fossil  plant 
and  saurian  monster  ;  who  watch  the  birth-hour  of  the 
tornado  and  signal  the  moment  of  its  advent  of  terror 
and  desolation — that  these,  and  such  as  these,  eat  the 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  303 

bread  of  idleness,  or  sleep  the  sleep  of  the  sluggard  ? 
Nothing  is  more  remote  from  truth  than  such  a 
thought.  Every  furrow  on  their  ample  brows  is  the 
record  of  a  conqiiest  as  truly  as  that  every  crow's-foot 
wrinkle  round  their  eyes  of  unquenched  fire  is  a  scroll 
written  over  with  fragments  of  "  the  fairy  tales  of 
science,  and  the  grand  results  of  time." 

Free  from  the  law  of  labor  man  cannot  hope  to 
live.  With  cessation  of  the  need  of  labor  barbarism 
begins,  and  reversion  to  savagedom  becomes  a  law  of 
life.  Naturally,  man  is  lazy.  He  loves  the  idea  of 
"  labor-saving  machines."  Scientists,  perhaps,  might 
tell  us  that  in  this  indisposition  to  work  we  prove  our 
ancestry  back  to  the  South  American  sloth.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  it  is  not  good  for  man  that  he  be  exempt 
from  the  law  of  labor.  The  more  one  ponders  the 
matter,  the  profounder  the  conviction  of  the  divinity, 
the  dignity,  and  the  blessedness  of  work.  It  has  the 
approval  of  my  reason,  the  sanction  of  my  conscience, 
the  well  done  of  my  God.  Working,  I  develop  my 
being  ;  I  restrain  my  animalism  ;  I  win  self-mastery. 
Patience  is  cultivated  ;  perseverance  becomes  a  habit. 
Draining  yonder  marsh,  I  may  be  aided  in  draining 
one  as  sour  within  my  own  heart.  Rooting  out  yon- 
der brier,  I  shall  be  helped  in  checking  the  growth  of 
a  vice  as  pestiferous  in  the  soil  of  my  own  spirit. 
And,  knowing  right  well  the  drift  and  tendencies  of 
my  nature,  the  benign  Father  of  all,  "  for  my  sake" 
for  my  weal,  " cursed  the  ground"  not  CURSED  LABOR 
— the  philosophy  of  which  it  is  not  my  business  now 
either  to  discuss  or  to  defend. 


304         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Again,  we  say,  Labor  is  the  law  of  life.  All  things 
living,  on  earth  or  elsewhere,  move  in  harmony  with 
it  From  God,  who  worketh  ever,  upholding,  renew- 
ing, restraining ;  consoling,  inspiring,  defending ; 
bidding  worlds  from  nothing  into  being,  and  feeding 
the  fires  of  ever-burning  suns,  from  age  to  age ; 
nerving  saints  for  heroic  battle  against  wrong,  and 
welcoming  them  from  their  fields  of  toil  or  their  fur- 
naces of  martyrdom  into  quietness  and  assurance  for- 
ever— from  this  God  down  to  his  tall  angels, "who 
now  work  in  bearing  up  a  little  one  along  his  path 
lest  he  dash  his  foot  against  a  stone,  and  again  work 
in  wafting  the  spirit  of  a  pauper  upon  their  unmolt- 
ing  pinions  whither  the  storms  of  this  world  cannot 
travel  nor  its  mist  of  darkness  float ;  down  to  the 
coral-builder  that  faints  not,  neither  is  weary  in  its 
toil  masonic  beneath  bright  tropic  skies,  and  cheered 
on  in  its  silent  labors  by  the  choral  chantings  of  Pacific 
waves — labor  is  life,  is  gladness,  is  beauty. 

And  let  the  thought  be  repeated  and  emphasized — 
the  labor  of  life  is  a  battle.  It  is  a  fierce  strife. 
Vigilance  is  ever  demanded  ;  forethought  in  ceaseless 
play.  For  floods  challenge,  tempests  call  in  trumpet 
tone,  and  drought,  and  locust,  and  prolific  weed- 
growth  dare  man  to  wrestle  with  and  vanquish  them. 
And  if  man  were  as  wise  as  he  might  be,  then  should 
he  hail  the  struggle  as  his  opportunity  for  achieving 
that  "  to  which  the  whole  creation  moves" — MORAL 

MANHOOD SELF-SOVEREIGNTY  ! 

The  peril  in  the  midst  of  us  is  great  in  this  particu- 
lar :  that  work  shall  be  deemed  ignoble.  But,  in  truth, 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAJT.  305 

in  no  land  beneath  God's  generous  sunlight  is  honest 
toil  more  honorable  than  in  this  free  country.  The 
spirit  of  gambling  has  been  in  our  atmosphere  quite 
long  enough  for  the  health  of  our  sons  and  daughters. 
It  creates  feverishness,  restlessness,  impatience,  con- 
tempt for  slow,  steady  processes  and  deferred  results 
and  profits.  We  would  move  but  when  swept  by 
lightning  express  or  "  two-twenty  trotters."  The  old 
method  of  honest,  intelligent,  persevering,  plodding 
toil,  as  that  by  which  honor  shall  be  won,  competence 
gained,  and  well-being  realized,  may  have  served  in 
generations  past.  But  young  Calif ornian  Americans 
cry  out  against  all  such  "  old  fogy  ism." 

No  thoughtful  observer  can  have  failed  to  recog- 
nize in  this  Fair  an  illustration  of  the  laws  of  co-opera- 
tion and  division  of  labor.  These  products  had  never 
been  but  for  diversity  of  gifts  in  the  endowments  of 
men;  diversity  of  adaptation  as  the  result  of  those 
endowments ;  and  then,  union  of  all  these,  in  endeav- 
ors to  supply  the  wants  of  humanity. 

Single-handed,  single-hearted — how  feeble  is  man  ! 
What  a  narrow  map  of  survey ;  what  a  superficial 
acquaintance  with  the  facts  within  that  circumscribed 
domain  !  What  hope  can  he  cherish  of  victory  over 
nature's  forces  single-handed!  The  highest  type  of 
animal  life  presents  us  with  the  greatest  diversity  of 
organs  and  functions  co-operating  to  one  end.  The 
loftier  the  life,  the  greater  the  number  of  forces  focal- 
izing to  sustain  such  life.  The  functions  of  the  lowest 
living  thing  are  fulfilled  by  one  organ.  Loftiest  life 
is  nourished  by  a  score.  Savage  life,  as  contrasted 


306         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

with  civilized,  illustrates  the  same  principle.  It  is 
before  us  most  truly  in  our  exhibition. 

There  is  the  product  of  the  worker  in  iron  and  the 
worker  in  marble.  There  is  the  herdsman  with  his 
wool,  and  the  grape-grower  with  his  wines  and  raisins. 
There  is  the  manufacturer  of  blankets,  and  the  pro- 
ducer of  beeves,  of  butter,  and  of  beet-root.  There 
is  the  spinner  of  steel  wire  and  of  hemp  rope,  by  the 
former  meeting  the  needs  of  our  street-car  companies, 
and  by  the  other  supplying  the  demands  of  that  ex- 
tremely necessary  adjunct  to  our  civilization — the 
common  hangman. 

There  is  the  tooth-extractor,  with  its  pleasures  of 
hope,  and  the  toy  for  the  infant  just  cutting  its  teeth. 
There  are  Cinderella  slippers  for  fairy-footed  belles, 
and  there  are  the  no  less  fair  and  fairy  edifices — 
"  castles  in  the  air " — called  bonnets.  There  are 
sweetmeats  for  "billing  and  cooing"  lovers,  and  pre- 
served meats  for  sallow-cheeked,  desiccated,  and  melan- 
choly bachelors.  There  are  crystal  goblets  from 
which  to  quaff  that  elixir  of  life  and  home  of  living 
things  called  "  Spring  Yalley  water ; "  and  then  there 
are  brooms  and  "combination  mops,"  over  which 
Mrs.  Partington  must  shed  tears  of  ecstatic  joy,  and 
large  enough  to  sweep  into  limbo  all  the  cobwebs  that 
ever  clustered  in  the  antique  corners  of  an  old  City 
Hall,  and  to  cleanse  the  filthiest  floor  o'er  which  the 
disgusted  members  of  a  political  caucus  expectorated 
their  contempt  and  chagrin.  Here  are  cradles  in 
which  may  be  rocked  into  dreamland  the  future  sav- 
iors of  their  commonwealth ;  and  here  are  revolving 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  307 

lounges,  upon  which  the  fathers  of  these  precious 
creatures  may  gyrate,  as  they  study  the  problems  of 
state-craft  and  of  the  Stock  Exchange.  Here  are 
materials  for  the  printing-press,  and  for  the  circu- 
lation of  opinions  that  are  reformations  in  embryo 
and  revolutions  in  the  germ. 

And  here  are  organs  and  pianos — for  man  longs  for 
rest,  and  yearns  to  forget  his  woes ;  and  would  fain 
voice  his  hopes  and  antedate  his  immortality  in  that 
ethereal  speech  called  music.  And  here  is  our  "  gallery 
of  the  fine  arts."  For  man  is  made  for  the  "  beautiful." 
Nor  is  he  satisfied  with  the  provision  for  his  craving 
furnished  in  the  forms  and  colors  and  motions  of  crea- 
tion. There  is  no  stint,  it  is  true,  in  nature's  supplies. 
There  is  the  tint  of  the  fox-glove,  and  the  gleam  of 
the  gem,  and  the  pomp  of  the  cloud-storm,  and  the 
grandeur  of  the  snow  peak,  and  the  mirror-like  re- 
pose of  the  land-locked  lake,  and  the  plumage  of 
tropic  bird,  and  the  majesty  of  sunset,  and  the  swell 
of  the  foam-wreathed  billow,  and  the  serenity  of  eve, 
and  the  valley  all  afire  with  morning  sunbeams  steeped 
in  pearls  of  dew.  Yet  this  is  not  enough.  The  artist 
must  extract  from  these  their  fairest,  their  purest, 
their  noblest ;  and  of  the  extract  fashion  scenes  not 
more  true  to  nature  than  they  are  true  to  the  loftier 
ideals  with  which  imagination  loves  to  commune. 

Every  new  discovery  places  another  force  at  the 
service  of  man.  Every  new  discovery  reveals  another 
appliance  for  the  mitigation  of  some  physical  woe, 
the  lessening  of  some  social  burden,  the  increase  of 

the  value  of  human  life. 
21 


308          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Nor  is  there  any  reason  to  believe  that  man  has 
touched  the  goal  of  ultimate  discovery.  He  is  but 
breaking  the  shell  and  crust.  He  is  but  turning 
up  the  soil  to  the  depth  of  a  few  inches.  He  has 
but  skirted  a  few  leagues  of  the  immensity  of  being. 
He  has  but  mapped  out  a  few  departments  of  the  vast 
empire  of  matter.  He  has  but  climbed,  comparatively, 
a  few  feet  of  the  soaring  peaks  of  outlook.  He  some- 
times mistakes  the  ant-heap  for  an  Alp.  Having 
dredged  his  gold-fish  vase,  he  exults  as  though  he  held 
the  ocean  in  the  hollow  of  his  hand.  But  where  is 
he  who  has  chronicled  the  last  fact  of  nature,  plucked 
the  last  flower  from  her  forest,  weighed  the  last  star 
in  her  galaxies,  waked  the  last  Titan  force  from  its 
slumber  and  sent  it  forth  to  work,  a  willing  and  glad 
slave  in  man's  behoof  I 

"  Onward ! "  is  the  impassioned  cry.  The  bounda- 
ries amplify ;  the  goal  becomes  a  starting-post ;  the 
loftiest  peak  but  a  step  in  the  ascending  stairway  that 
climbs  from  darkness  up  to  God.  We  are  but  learn- 
ing the  letters  of  the  alphabet ;  whether  we  have  as  yet 
discovered  them  all,  or  not,  \vho  knows  ?  Or  we  are  put- 
ting the  letters  into  words  ?  or  we  are  putting  the  words 
into  sentences  ?  or  the  sentences  into  paragraphs  ?  or 
the  paragraphs  into  chapters  \  Ah  !  when  shall  the 
volume  be  completed  ?  When  shall  the  index  be  fur- 
nished ?  When,  the  preface  written  ?  When,  the  folio 
issued  and  the  first  edition  put  into  circulation  ?  Echo 
answers,  "  When  ? " 

Yes,  the  sovereignty  is  a  progressive  one.  Slowly, 
steadily,  has  man  advanced  in  discovery,  conquest, 


THE  SOVEREIGNTY  OF  MAN.  309 

government  of  nature.  Steadily,  in  our  later  ages, 
has  advance  been  made  in  the  knowledge  of  the 
secrets  of  the  skies,  and  the  secrets  of  the  air,  and  the 
secrets  of  the  Water,  and  the  secrets  of  forces  em- 
bodied and  unembodied. 

Alchemy  has  given  place  to  chemistry.  Astrology 
has  yielded  to  astronomy.  The  oil-lamp  surrenders 
to  the  gas-burner ;  and  the  gas,  in  turn,  is  in  peril  of 
extinguishment  by  the  light  of  electricity.  Messen- 
gers on  horseback  give  place  to  mail-carriers  in  steam- 
cars.  Messages  by  steam  are  slow  in  the  presence  of 
the  message  by  telegraph ;  and  that,  in  turn,  may 
become  a  triviality  compared  with  the  lines  along 
which  we  shall  whisper  our  wishes  of  good  cheer. 

The  future,  the  coming  man  or  race,  shall  have 
something  left  for  it  to  do. 

There  is  Vesuvius :  and  the  problem  to  be  solved 
is,  how  best  to  utilize  such  a  huge  f umace  ?  There 
is  Niagara :  how  make  use  of  its  water-power  in  work- 
ing our  machinery  ?  There  are  earthquakes :  how  shall 
they  be  compelled  to  upheave  and  o'erwhelm,  and 
shiver  and  split, 'without  injury  to  the  engineer  under 
whose  direction  they  shall  be  placed  ?  There  is  the 
Gulf  Stream :  shall  it  not  be  altered  in  its  course  and 
poured  in  upon  the  Sahara,  subject  to  powers  of  con- 
trol not,  as  yet,  clearly  seen  by  the  canal-cutters  of 
our  day  ?  Who  knows  but  that  in  some  future  age 
when,  war  having  broken  out  between  this  great  repub- 
lic, with  its  two  hundred  millions  of  freemen,  and  the 
insolent  little  islanders  yonder  in  the  north-east,  the 
latter  shall  be  compelled  to  submit  ?  for  we  shall  freeze 


310         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

them  into  icebergs  by  simply  deflecting  the  Gulf 
Stream,  and  letting  it  flow  right  through  Central 
America  into  the  Pacific.  And  there  are  the  "  North- 
ern Lights" — the  Aurora  Borealis:  when  we  shall 
have  exhausted  oil  and  tallow  and  wax  and  gas  and 
electricity,  and  whatever  of  light  element  might  be 
extracted  from  lakes  and  pools  and  seas  and  oceans, 
shall  we  not  hear  of  the  formation  of  a  stock  company, 
with  unlimited  liabilities,  for  the  supply  of  light  to 
cities  by  means  of  the  utilization  of  this  phenomenon 
of  nature  ? 


THE  TRUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.    311 


THE  TRUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.* 

I  HAVE  been  requested  by  the  proprietors  of  tliis 
great  work  of  art  to  seize  the  opportunity  which 
it  presents  for  making  a  good  impression  upon  the 
hearts  and  consciences  of  my  school  and  charge.  I 
wish  it  to  be  understood  that  I  am  not  here  to-night  as 
an  art  critic.  If  any  one  has  been  led  to  anticipate  a 
lecture  upon  painting  by  reason  of  the  ambitious  title 
of  my  address,  he  is  doomed  to  a  bitter  disappoint- 
ment. The  selection  of  the  title  of  Victor  Cousin's 
most  suggestive  work,  "  The  True,  The  Beautiful,  and 
the  Good,"  is  altogether  Mr.  Derby's  choice.  Alive 
to  the  promise  held  forth  by  such  a  title,  I  demurred 
to  its  adoption.  But  all  in  vain. 

Let  it  then  be  understood  that,  more  for  conven- 
ience' sake  than  for  any  other  reason,  the  presumpt- 
uous selection  was  made ;  and  that  I  may  wander  at 
my  own  sweet  will  through  the  ample  breadths  of 
thought  and  sentiment  dispread  before  the  meditative 
mind  by  this  masterpiece  of  genius. 

It  is  all  but  impossible  to  say  any  thing  new  upon 
the  parable  of  the  "  Prodigal  Son."  It  is  old ;  and 
still  it  is  young.  Of  Hebrew  origin,  it  spurns  na- 

*  An  address  delivered  on  tlie  occasion  of  the  exhibition  of  Du 
Boenfs  painting,  "The  Pryuigal  Son,"  at  tlie  Masonic  Temple,  Balti- 
more. 


312         GUARD'S  LECTUEES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

tionality  in  its  appeal  to  and  sovereignty  over  the  deep 
places  of  the  human  heart.  Children  feel  its  spell. 
Scholars  yield  to  its  fascination.  Orators  gather 
inspiration  from  it.  Art  has  taxed  its  resources  in  the 
endeavor  to  crowd  upon  its  canvas  the  scenes  wherein 
ineffable  wisdom  and  tenderness  depicted  the  decline 
and  fall,  the  repentance,  return,  and  restoration  of  a 
"  creature  capable  of  God." 

Upon  entering  this  hall  the  thoughts  suggested  by 
this  work  of  art  will  be  found  as  manifold  as  the 
types  of  mind  and  grades  of  culture  met  with  in  those 
present. 

One  shall  at  once  exclaim :  See !  here  we  have  an- 
other instance  of  the  influence  of  the  Bible  upon  hu- 
man intellect  and  the  indebtedness  of  art,  as  of  phil- 
osophy and  morals,  to  the  truths  of  Holy  Writ !  For, 
indeed,  this  owes  its  existence  to  the  sacred  volume. 
And  once  again  are  we  reminded  of  the  power  of 
that  old  book  over  the  mental  life  of  humanity.  We 
run  over  in  our  thoughts  the  instances  so  numerous 
of  literary  and  artistic  obligation  to  the  scenes,  charac- 
ters, and  events  of  this  volume. 

In  music,  there  is  Haydn's  u  Creation  ;  "  there  are 
Handel's  "  Israel  in  Egypt "  and  the  u  Messiah ;"  there 
is  Mendelssohn's  "Elijah;"  there  is  Costa's  "Naa- 
man ; "  and  others  familiar  to  the  daughters  of  song. 

In  the  drama,  there  is  Byron's  "  Cain ;  "  there  are 
"  Samson  "  and  "  Saul,"  as  lately  presented  by  Sal- 
vini ;  as  well  as  the  large  obligation  of  our  own  Shak- 
speare  for  some  of  his  finest  passages  and  more 
than  one  of  his  characters  to  this  volume. 


THE  TRUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.    313 

In  poetry,  where  shall  I  begin?  Milton's  "Para- 
dise Lost "  and  "  Paradise  Regained,"  and  his  "  Ode 
on  the  Nativity;"  Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning's 
"  Drama  of  Exile "  and  "  He  giveth  his  beloved 
sleep;"  Byron's  and  Moore's  "Hebrew  Melodies;" 
Pope's  "  Messiah ; "  Montgomery's  "  World  before 
the  Flood;"  Keble's  "Christian  Year;"  Longfel- 
low's "  Divine  Tragedy ; "  besides  the  countless  beau- 
ties of  metaphor  and  diction  strewn  o'er  the  fields  of 
literature  for  which  the  authors  were  indebted  to  the 
Bible. 

And,  as  most  naturally  of  all  suggested  by  this 
work,  painting :  the  "  Deluge  "  in  its  terror ;  the 
"  Last  Plague  "  in  its  desolation ;  "  Sinai "  in  its  gran- 
deur of  law-giving;  David  "as  he  plants  his  foot 
upon  the  prostrate  Philistine;"  Elijah  at  Carmel, 
Iloreb,  and  in  his  chariot  of  fire  ;  "  The  Goodly  Fel- 
lowship of  the  Prophets ; "  the  "  Epiphany ; "  the 
"  Temptation  ; "  the  "  Transfiguration  ; "  the  "  Cruci- 
fixion,"* the  "Ascension"  of  our  Divine  Master: 
Paul  on  his  way  to  Damascus  and  on  Mars'  Hill. 

These,  and  others  not  remembered  now,  are  illustra- 
tions of  the  mighty  influence  of  this  book  upon  art. 
Indeed,  not  more  deeply  indebted  are  literary  and  art- 
loving  men  to  the  scenes  and  colors  of  nature  than  to 
the  characters  and  events  of  revelation. 

Nor  is  it  possible  to  overestimate  the  benefits  con- 
ferred upon  and  maintained  by  our  sacred  book,  apart 
from  its  purely  religious  mission.  The  mental  life  it 
has  awakened,  the  energies  it  has  developed,  the  in- 
spiration it  has  breathed,  the  taste  it  has  cultivated, 


314         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

the  subtle  sympathies  and  delicate  affinities  with  all 
that  is  lovely  and  fair  it  has  evoked,  time  would  fail 
me  to  enumerate. 

The  title  chosen  for  the  utterances  of  to-night  is 
full  of  suggestions.  Its  triplicity  of  terms  is  not  a 
mere  jingle  of  words  without  meaning.  Every  term 
includes  an  idea  and  signifies  a  faculty  and  a  function 
of  the  human  spirit ;  and  also  implies  an  objective 
reality  suited  to  the  subjective  power  of  the  soul. 
There  is  truth.  There  is  beauty.  There  is  goodness. 
Truth  is  sought  for  by  the  scientist ;  beauty,  by  the 
artist ;  goodness,  by  the  moralist.  Man,  as  he  ascends 
the  scale  of  worth,  grows  in  depth  of  conviction  that 
there  is  such  a  substance  as  truth ;  that  there  is  such 
a  reality  as  'beauty  ;  that  there  is  such  a  verity  as 
goodness.  These  are  felt  to  be  fundamental  and  im- 
perishable principles  of  his  nature.  And  his  endeavor 
is  to  seek  after  and  possess  them.  The  faculty  which 
seeks  truth  is  pure  reason ;  the  faculty  which  seeks 
beauty  is  emotion  guided  by  reason  ;  the  faculty  which 
seeks  goodness  is  conscience  aided  by  reason  and  at- 
tended by  emotion. 

Once  these  three  existed  but  in  God.  He  is  infi- 
nite truth,  infinite  beauty,  infinite  goodness.  lie 
created  to  the  intent  that  he  might  exhibit  these  per- 
fections. Nature  exists  to  show  forth  his  glory  as 
possessor  of  these  essences.  Hence  there  is  truth, 
physical  and  metaphysical ;  truth,  mathematical  and 
moral.  Hence  there  is  beauty,  material  and  spiritual ; 
beauty  of  color  and  of  contour ;  beauty  of  fitness  and 
of  adaptation  ;  beauty  of  moral  principle  and  of  social 


THE  TRUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AXD  THE  GOOD.    315 

act.  Hence  there  is  goodness,  evidenced  in  obedi- 
ence and  in  well-being,  in  affection  and  in  sympathy, 
in  loyalty  to  the  right  and  in  devotion  to  the  true,  in 
heroism  on  behalf  of  the  suffering  and  magnanimity 
toward  the  erring  and  the  repentant.  And  these 
three  are  exquisitely  interwoven.  That  which  is  good 
cannot  be  false  ;  and  it  cannot  be  hideous.  The  im- 
moral is  ever  the  untrue  as  it  is  ever  the  loathsome. 
And  so  the  true  must  ever  be  the  beautiful,  and  it 
must  ever  be  the  good.  And  so,  also,  the  beautiful 
must  be  the  true  and  the  good.  No  artist  commits  a 
greater  crime  than  he  who  presents  beauty  as  spring- 
ing from  a  lie  and  as  in  antagonism  to  the  right. 

This  holds  good  of  beauty  or  the  beautiful  in  every 
department.  There  are  true  lines  and  true  colors  and 
true  tones.  A  beautiful  painting  cannot  be  secured 
at  the  expense  of  truth  in  shadow  and  light  of  fore- 
ground and  of  perspective.  And  hence  the  artist 
must  ever  be  guided  by  the  faculty  which  decides 
upon  the  true  and  the  false,  even  reason.  And  that 
cannot  be,  as  a  painting,  a  "  thing  of  beauty,"  if  it 
war  with  the  good.  He  commits  a  high  crime  and 
misdemeanor  as  an  artist,  as  well  as  a  moralist,  who 
seeks  to  make  vice  lovely,  lust  admirable,  envy  se- 
raphic. This  is  to  be  false  in  the  most  absolute  sense. 
For  let  the  whole  soul  speak  out  and  it  will,  without 
feebleness  or  faltering,  declare  avarice  hateful,  mean- 
ness despicable,  treachery  loathsome,  ingratitude  hor- 
rible ;  in  a  word,  vice  abominable.  And  the  abomina- 
ble, the  horrible,  the  despicable,  the  loathsome,  the 
contemptible,  can  never  be  the  beautiful.  Vice  shall, 


310          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

therefore,  be  painted  as  she  is ;  and  when  seen,  shall 
shock  and  sicken,  revolt  and  repel,  disgust  and  deter. 
For  the  beautiful  is  ever  one  with  the  good  and  in 
concord  with  the  true. 

It  might  be  said,  perhaps,  that  the  beautiful  is  not, 
as  are  the  true  and  the  good,  necessary  to  an  intel- 
lectual and  moral  life ;  that  the  beautiful  is  a  luxury, 
not  one  of  the  necessities  of  our  existence.  Food  is 
necessary  to  our  existence ;  but  the  agreeableness  of 
flavor  and  pungency  are  not  necessary.  Hearing  is 
necessary  to  our  existence ;  but  sound  need  not  have 
been  capable  of  all  the  modulation  of  harp  and  organ, 
of  flute  and  violin,  or  even  of  the  human  voice. 
There  is  melody,  there  is  harmony,  where  there  need 
not  have  been  other  than  a  shriek  or  a  growl.  Sight 
needed  not,  for  the  fulfillment  of  its  function,  that 
cloudlets  should  be  dyed  in  purple,  shells  tinted  with 
vermilion,  plumage  of  birds  plunged  in  iridescent 
floods. 

No ;  God  has  not  limited  his  gifts  to  a  bare  supply 
of  the  imperative  demands  of  life.  "  He  has  given 
us  all  things  richly  to  enjoy."  His  ideal  of  life  is  a 
royal  banquet.  Existence  to  him  must  be  exhilarant, 
exuberant,  ecstatic.  He  could  not  love  us  as  mere 
mathematic  calculating  machines.  Nor  would  he 
have  us  in  the  service  of  goodness  valiant  for  the 
right  without  one  sentiment  of  admiration  and  de- 
light to  quicken  our  pulse  and  flush  our  brow.  Hence, 
in  the  faculty  of  the  beautiful,  and  in  the  provision 
for  its  gratification,  God  has  added  to  our  table  ele- 
gancies and  delights.  We  shall  banquet ;  but  it  shall 


THE  TKUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.    317 

be  upon  apples  gold-orbed  from  baskets  of  silver. 
We  shall  walk  through  life ;  but  it  shall  be  through 
atmospheres  laden  with  fragrance,  and  through  forests 
clad  in  mantles  of  many  colors,  and  beneath  skies 
arched  and  over  plains  paved  by  an  architect  who 
loves  to  blend  together,  in  all  that  he  does,  the 
"strength  and  beauty"  of  his  own  most  perfect 
nature. 

A  great  painting  is  a  great  poem.  The  language 
in  which  the  painter  speaks  differs,  'tis  true,  from 
that  in  which  the  poet  speaks ;  but  the  end  he  contem- 
plates is  the  same.  His  language  is  form  and  color. 
The  speech  is  not  heard ;  there  is  no  voice  nor  lan- 
guage; yet  may  he  eloquently  address  us  and  pro- 
foundly move  and  sway  us. 

The  greatest  painter  is  the  man  who  conveys  to  us 
the  greatest  number  of  the  greatest  ideas  in  the  most 
perfect  language  of  his  art.  Estimate  the  quality, 
measure  the  quantity  of  his  ideas,  and  then  infer  the 
rank  of  his  genius.  The  manner  of  expression  is  ever 
inferior  in  importance  to  the  matter  expressed.  There 
may  be  perfection  of  expression ;  but  the  idea  expressed 
may  be  petty  and  mean.  There  may  be  lack  of  finish  in 
expression  ;  but  the  thoughts  conveyed  are  of  loftiest 
type  and  most  sacred  bearing.  Therefore,  in  buying 
pictures,  deal  as  you  would  in  buying  books,  prose  or 
poems.  Have  none  but  the  best ;  though  there  l>e 
paucity  in  number,  let  there  be  opulence  in  worth. 
Commune  but  with  the  mightiest  minds.  Converse 
but  with  the  most  suggestive  thinkers. 

The  educating  power  of  a  gallery  of  great  works 


318          GUAED'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

of  art  cannot  be  overestimated.  Wedded  to  science, 
and  thus  freed  from  all  debilitating  influence  upon 
character,  the  effect  must  be  humanizing,  softening, 
refining.  Man  is  freed  from  the  grasp  of  material- 
ism ;  enters  the  large  places  of  pure  and  serene  de- 
light ;  forgets  the  cares  and  irritations  of  life ;  realizes 
a  thirst  for  good  and  for  excellence  which  moth  can- 
not corrupt  nor  rust  destroy. 

The  utilitarian  philosopher  need  not  turn  from  high 
art  as  though  it  were  antagonistic  to  the  purpose  of 
his  life  and  teachings.  Every  thing  created  by  God 
is  capable  of  serving  man,  of  ministering  to  his  well- 
being.  But  man's  being  is  a  manifold  and  complex 
one.  His  ranges  of  life  sweep  from  the  material  up 
to  the  divine.  He  rests  upon  earth,  but  he  fronts  the 
skies.  He  must  "  labor  for  the  meat  that  perishes ; " 
but  he  can  "eat  angels'  food."  Is  it  nothing  to  man 
that  you  give  him  a  new  idea?  that  you  make  his 
happiness  less  dependent  upon  the  body  ?  that  you 
give  him  an  eye  to  interpret  the  handwriting  upon 
nature's  walls  ?  that  you  enlarge  his  apprehension  of 
the  glory  of  living  in  such  a  world  ?  that  you  unseal 
his  ears  to  catch  the  melodies  of  being  that  float  around 
and  ripple  o'er  him  ?  that  you  apply  an  eye-salve  that 
shall  clarify  his  vision  to  detect  the  wealth  of  loveli- 
ness lurking  in  leaflet  and  in  flower-bell,  in  insect's 
pinion  and  in  wild  bird's  buoyant  wing — so  that  he 
shall  linger  within  nature's  vastnesses  as  within  a 
Gothic  cathedral ;  wander  through  nature  as  through 
a  cosmopolitan  gallery  of  fine  art ;  repose  in  nature  as 
in  a  conservatory  of  music;,  and  commune,  through 


THE  TKUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.    319 

nature,  with  the  Builder  and  the  Maker  of  all  things  ? 
Is  it  nothing  to  add  another  chord  to  man's  harp 
of  many  strings,  and  lift  him  beyond  the  grossness  of 
things  seen  into  ever-rapturous  contact  with  the  se- 
rene and  sacred  realities  and  denizens  of  that  city 
where  dwells  "the  King  in  his  beauty,"  and  where 
abide  and  abound  the  archetypes  of  all  the  beauty 
of  which  poet  ever  sang  or  painter  ever  dreamed  ? 

If  ever  there  were  an  age  in  which  this  was  de- 
manded, this  is  that  age.  We  are  growing  rich.  Earth 
is  yielding  her  treasures  to  our  bidding.  Science  is 
delving  in  mountain  and  digging  in  river-bed  for  pre- 
cious things  wherewith  to  embellish  and  enrich.  All 
things  are  being  turned  into  gold.  Air  and  water, 
light  and  lightning,  forest  and  prairie,  monsters  of  the 
deep  and  fowls  of  the  heaven,  brain  x>f  man  and  mus- 
cle of  brute — all  things  yield  to  the  alchemic  touch, 
and  are  changed  into  gold.  With  what  intent  ?  That 
man  may  have  rest  and  leisure,  scope  and  sphere,  for 
the  unfoldment  of  life  which  gold  cannot  nourish. 
Gold  gained  is  but  the  means  to  an  end  nobler,  loftier : 
the  culture  of  humanizing  sentiments ;  the  gratifica- 
tion of  moral  instincts ;  the  erection  of  homes  for 
age  and  indigence,  imperiled  youth  and  fallen  wo- 
manhood ;  the  sustentation  of  religious  enterprises 
and  benevolent  institutions ;  and  the  development  of 
the  amenities  and  tastes  of  our  aesthetic  nature.  To 
purchase  a  bust ;  to  pay  a  landscape  gardener ;  to  add 
a  product  of  the  old,  or  of  the  young,  masters  of  brush 
and  canvas  to  your  frescoed  walls ;  to  endow  the  hall 
of  art  and  throng  it  with  keen  and  quivering  spirits, 


320          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

hungering  and  atliirst  after  whatsoever  things  are 
lovely — believe  me,  these  are  just  as  divinely  appoint- 
ed uses  of  money  as  your  contributions  to  the  Or- 
phans1 Home  and  your  donation  on  behalf  of  the  mis- 
sions to  the  cannibals  of  the  South  Sea. 

Deem  not  this  waste.  Nothing  spent  on  the  en- 
largement, invigoration,  refinement,  purification  of 
soul,  is  waste.  So  thinks  not  God.  He  has  not  lim- 
ited himself  merely  to  such  utilitarian  ideas.  Every 
thing  he  has  made  is  useful ;  but  he  hath,  as  well,  made 
every  thing  beautiful  in  its  time  and  season.  Clouds 
are  our  water-wagons.  They  refresh  the  fainting, 
panting  earth.  But  they  are  inlaid  with  divers  colors 
and  built  after  the  similitude  of  a  gold,  ebony,  and 
ivory  Roman  triumphal  chariot.  And  so  of  the  sea- 
sons: they  serve  us  and  wait  upon  us  in  ordered 
regularity  and  steady  stateliness.  But  they  are  beau- 
tiful, whether  snow  clothe  them,  or  azure  vesture 
them,  or  purple  fold  them,  or  cloth  of  gold  mantle 
them. 

The  beauty  of  the  Lord  our  God  is  on  every  thing 
and  in  every  thing — in  the  curve  of  the  wave ;  in  the 
molding  of  the  hillock ;  in  the  murmur  of  the  ring- 
dove ;  in  the  pipings  of  the  winds ;  in  the  aurora  of 
daybreak ;  in  the  burnished  pomp  of  sunset ;  in  the 
palm-tree's  feathery  plume  ;  in  the  glow  of  the 
opal ;  in  the  flash  of  the  fire-fly  ;  in  the  sweep  of  the 
seafowl's  showy  form ;  in  the  flutings  of  the  ancient 
hills ;  in  the  geometric  crystals  of  the  snow-storm ;  in 
lakelet  framed  in  granite  ;  in  the  sinuous  meanderings 
of  the  laughing,  rippling  rivulet^-O,  hath  not  God 


THE  TRUE,  THE  BEAUTIFUL,  AND  THE  GOOD.    321 

proved  to  us  that  in  beauty,  as  in   usefulness,  his 
heart  finds  an  exceeding  joy ! 

Nor  can  we  more  worthily  prove  ourselves  the  chil- 
dren of  our  Father  than  by  celebrating  and  sanctify- 
ing the  everlasting  union  in  our  hearts  and  lives  and 
destinies  of  the  true,  the  beautiful,  and  the  good. 

Be  good,  sweet  maid,  and  let  who  will  be  clever; 
Do  noble  things,  not  dream  them,  all  day  long ; 
And  thus  make  life,  death,  and  the  vast  forever, 
One  grand,  sweet  song ! 

A  great  painter  is  as  certainly  a  gift  from  God  to 
his  nation,  his  race,  his  age,  as  was  even  one  of  Is- 
rael's prophets.  He  is  as  veritable  a  teacher  as  is  the 
sage  of  science  or  the  priest  of  piety.  He  bears  a 
message  and  fulfills  a  mission.  While  one  messenger 
appeals  to  the  moral  faculty,  and  another  to  the  log- 
ical, and  a  third  to  the  practical,  the  great  artist  of  the 
brush  and  of  the  chisel  appeals  to  the  imagination. 
Their  work  is  one ;  their  methods  are  multiform  ;  their 
commission  equally  divine.  Such  men  are  not  chance 
stragglers  from  the  realms  of  silence  and  of  night 
into  the  living  kingdom  of  humanity.  As  certainly 
as  the  great  statesman,  the  brave  general,  the  heroic 
patriot,  the  magnanimous  discoverer,  the  martyr  refor- 
mer, are  God's  gifts  to  man,  even  so  certainly  is  the 
great  painter.  Raphael  was  as  truly  an  embassador 
from  heaven's  court  as  was  Columbus.  Milton  had 
,an  authority  to  sing  from  the  "  Lover  of  concord,"  as 
Cromwell  from  the  "Lover  of  liberty."  Hundreds 
never  reached  by  the  reason  are  mastered  by  the 
singer;  and  within  hearts  impervious  to  the  official 


322         GUAED'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

appeals  of  the  black-robed  parson,  the  high-priest  of 
beauty  obtains  an  audience  for  his  sacred  oracle.  Of 
the  multitudes  glorified,  it  will  be  found  true  that 
not  a  few  entered  into  the  temple  of  godliness  through 
" the  gate  that  is  called  Beautiful" 

Each  of  us  is  afresh  summoned  to  the  duty  of  fash- 
ioning a  life  that  shall  be  true  and  beautiful  and  good. 
The  pattern  life  exists.  It  should  be  ever  before  us ; 
to  it  we  should  ever  look ;  after  it,  ever  aspire ;  by 
it  ever  be  stimulated.  Help  is  available.  The  spirit 
of  this  high  art,  the  Author  of  all  genius,  is  your 
friend.  Under  his  inspiration,  by  his  guidance,  your 
conduct  cannot  fail  to  fashion  a  life  as  strong,  as  beau- 
tiful, and  as  true  as  it  is  good.  Every  man  cannot 
paint  after  this  fashion ;  but  every  man  can  be  a  liv- 
ing picture.  Every  man  cannot  sing  like  Tennyson  ; 
but  every  man  can  live  a  poem.  Every  man  cannot 
compose  an  anthem ;  but  every  man  can  have  his  life 
a  doxology  unto  the  Father  and  the  Son  and  the  Holy 
Spirit.  Let  this  be  one  result  of  the  presentation  of, 
this  superb  work  of  art,  and  it  shall  have  vindicated 
to  you,  at  least,  its  right  to  rank  as  an  embodiment  of 
the  True,  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good. 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  323 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.* 

TO  your  request  that  I  should  deliver  an  address  to 
your  order,  I  cordially  accede.  It  gives  me 
pleasure  to  see  you  and  speak  a  few  words  as  suggested 
by  your  association.  I  have  read  and  studied  the 
principles  of  your  order,  and  confess  my  admiration 
of  them,  as  well  as  of  the  practical  benefits  flowing 
from  their  application  during  the  past  year.  I  tender 
you  my  good  wishes,  accompanied  by  my  .sincere 
prayer  for  your  continued  and  enlarged  prosperity. 

The  moral  principles  expressed  in  your  motto  are 
noble :  "  Friendship,  truth,  love."  They  are  worthy 
of  that  religion  by  which  they  have  been  taught,  exem- 
plified, and  honored  as  by  none  other  believed  in  by  man. 
These  principles  found  their  sublimest  expression 
in  Him  whose  name  we  bear  as  Christians.  He  was 
indeed  the  Friend  of  all  men,  of  all  classes,  of  all 
conditions ;  the "'  Friend  that  sticketh  closer  than  a  broth- 
er." He  was  truth  in  all  its  grandeur,  in  all  its  beauty,  in 
all  its  beneficence.  In  him  was  no  guile.  He  was  love ; 
high  as  heaven ;  broad  as  the  universe ;  lasting  as 
eternity ;  equal  to  any  service ;  capable  of  any  toil ; 
undaunted  by  any  suffering ;  "  stronger  than  death." 

*  Delivered  before  the   Independent   Order  of  Mechanics   at   Mt. 
Vernon  Place  Church,  Baltimore,  Sunday  evening,  April  23,  1882. 
22 


324          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

In  him,  indeed,  this  trinity  of  moral  virtues  met 
and  blended,  as  in  none  other  known  to  the  ages.  His 
example  is  your  ideal ;  his  spirit  your  inspiration  ; 
his  benediction  your  pledge  of  success,  your  guarantee 
of  existence  while  sun  and  moon  endure.  And, 
indeed,  your  institution  is  one  of  the  fruits,  rich 
and  ripe,  of  that  fair  tree  of  life  which  he  planted 
with  his  own  hand,  and  watered  with  his  own  most 
precious  blood. 

Yours  is  the  law  of  mutual  help.  This  law  is  one 
of  the  most  widely  operative  in  the  universe.  I  can- 
not think  of  any  spot  over  which  God's  good  scepter 
stretches  in  which  it  will  not  be  met.  Nothing  exists 
for  itself  alone.  Every  thing  depends  for  its  com- 
pleteness upon  some  other  thing.  Uniformity  there 
is  not,  but  unity  there  is;  and  unity  depends  on 
diversity  and  mutual  helpfulness. 

Minerals  exist  to  serve  vegetables  ;  vegetables  exist 
to  nourish  animals ;  all  exist  to  help  man.  Soils  need 
sunshine  and  showers.  Oceans  need  dry  land  and 
rivers.  Yalleys  need  hills ;  and  hills  need  clouds  and 
snows  to  robe,  to  crown  them,  and  to  nourish  their 
fountains  and  springs  of  water. 

The  great  nations  of  the  earth  need  each  the  other, 
and  each  the  other's  products  and  genius.  Not  on 
one  of  these  has  God  bestowed  all  things,  except  it 
be  upon  your  fair  land,  where  all  climates  and  soils,  all 
products  and  capacities,  seern  well-nigh  lavished.  But 
even  here  you  need  something  to  be  found  in  other 
and  older  lands  and  people. 

The  human  family  is  one,  by  reason  of  diversity 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  323 

of  gifts  and  co-operation  for  common  benefit.  It  is  a 
vast  organism  composed  of  many  members ;  and  all 
have  not  the  same  office.  The  loftier  the  being,  the 
greater  the  variety  of  organs  and  of  functions  found 
in  such  being.  There  shall  be  the  thinker  and  the 
singer ;  the  inventor  and  the  artisan ;  the  healer 
of  bodily  diseases  arid  the  healer  of  mental  and 
moral  maladies.  There  shall  be  the  tiller  of  the 
soil  and  the  herder  of  cattle.  There  shall  be  the 
manufacturer  and  the  vender  of  the  factory  products. 
There  shall  be  the  seaman  whose  business  is  in 
great  waters,  and  the  builder  of  the  ships  manned 
by  the  hardy  sailor.  There  shall  be  the  teacher  of 
youth,  and  the  builder  by  whom  the  college  dome 
shall  be  heaved,  beneath  which  the  student  and  the 
teacher  shall  gather  for  instruction.  There  shall 
be  the  author,  and  the  type-setter  whose  skill 
shall  scatter  broadcast  the  author's  tares  or  wheat. 
There  shall  be  the  statesman,  and  the  voter  by  whose 
ballot  the  men  of  wisdom  or  of  folly  shall  be  floated 
to  the  halls  of  legislature.  "The  king  is  fed  by  the 
field."  The  feller  of  forests  works  together  with  the 
carpenter;  the  grimy  miner  is  in  harness  with  the 
smith  ;  the  marble  cutter  with  the  architect ;  the  man 
of  muscle  with  the  man  of  brain.  Capital  depends 
on  labor,  and  labor  on  capital;  and  both  upon  the 
government  by  whose  wise,  impartial,  and  powerful 
administration,  liberty  of  action  is  secured,  and  peace- 
ful enjoyment  of  the  fruits  of  industry  assured  to  all. 
The  poet  sings  for  us.  The  historian  makes  past 
ages  yield  instruction  for  us.  The  sage  draws 


326         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

lightning  from  the  clouds  for  us.  The  daughter  of 
music  pours  out  her  floods  of  song  for  us.  The 
poorest  helps  the  richest ;  the  weakest  helps  the 
strongest ;  the  stupid  helps  the  quick-witted ;  the 
boor  helps  the  scholar ;  just  as  truly  as  the  opulent, 
the  wise,  the  brave,  help  to  retrieve  and  uplift  and  en- 
rich the  recipients  of  their  many  favors.  None  can 
live  without,  and  none  can  afford  to  despise,  the 
other ;  for  "  we  are  all  members  one  of  another." 

I  am  reminded  of  the  dignity  of  labor ;  for  I  ad- 
dress an  order  of  workmen,  and  an  order  of  no  mean 
rank. 

Work  is  the  law  of  life  by  His  appointment  who  is 
ever  working.  The  normal  condition  of  all  created 
existence  is  labor;  from  the  lowest  life  up  to  the 
loftiest ;  from  the  dullest  to  the  most  vivacious ;  from 
the  life  narrowest  in  its  area  of  activity  to  the  life  by 
whose  vocation  stellar  systems  are  embraced  and  trav- 
ersed. The  first  Adam  was  a  gardener  ;  and  the  second 
himself  bent  over  the  bench  ;  for,  as  a  Jew,  he  learned 
his  trade  and  practiced  it.  He  was  a  mechanic.  Paul 
wrought  at  his  trade  as  a  tent-maker.  Founded  upon 
infinite  reason,  justice,  love,  the  apostolic  principle 
abides  until  this  day  :  He  that  will  not  work  neither 
shall  he  eat. 

Health  of  body  and  health  of  heart,  health  of  con- 
science and  health  of  mind,  are  the  legitimate  off- 
spring of  honesLfpanly,  intelligent  toil.  Work  of  brain 
or  of  brawn ;  work,  beading  the  brow  with  sweat ; 
bronzing  the  skin  with  sun  and  weather ;  knitting 
the  frame  into  elastic  firmness  ;  giving  to  the  fingers, 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  32 T 

deftness ;  to  the  arm,  girth  ;  to  the  eye,  keenness ;  to 
the  touch,  delicacy ;  to  the  stroke,  precision ;  to  the 
soul,  force ;  to  the  will,  resolve  ;  to  the  whole  man- 
hood, vigor,  agility,  and  kingly  poise  and  port — aye  ! 
surely  this  is  of  God !  and,  therefore,  well  becomes  a 
man ! 

I  cannot  conceive  it  possible  that  an  idle  man  Can 
be  a  saint.  I  cannot  believe  that  self-respect  can 
possibly  co-exist  with  do-nothingism.  "Why  stand 
ye  here  all  the  day  idle  ? "  seems  to  be  the  challenge 
that  falls  upon  the  ear  and  soul  of  the  idler,  in  tones 
now  soft  and  tender,  in  notes  now  piercing  and  startling. 
From  the  toiling  workers  by  whom  the  coral  reefs 
are  piled,  to  the  light-beam  that  hastens  from  the  por- 
tals of  the  morn  to  revive  a  drooping  flower  or  cheer 
a  wakeful,  weary  watcher  by  the  bed  of  pain  ;  from 
the  earth-worm  that  burrows  and  tunnels  to  let  in  the 
rain-drops  and  air  upon  a  buried  seed  or  feeble  root- 
let, to  the  tempest  that  speeds  its  purifying  mission  to 
some  fever-haunted  or  plague-tainted  court  and  alley ; 
from  the  bee  that  cheerily  careers  o'er  clover  field  and 
wild-flower  glen,  to  the  burning  seraph  that  stoops  to 
shut  a  lion's  mouth,  refresh  a  world's  Redeemer  in  his 
agony  of  lonely  struggle,  and  wave  his  wings  of 
rapture  o'er  the  death  couch  of  a  Livingstone,  or  a 
Lazarus,  and  waft  his  spirit  safe  within  the  gates  of 
pearl  and  the  secret  place  of  the  Almighty ;  from 
these  undisputed  centers  of  blessed  and  beneficent 
services,  doth  not  the  query  rush  impetuous :  "  Why 
stand  ye  here  all  the  day  idle  ? "  Here,  where  there 
is  a  call  for  workmen !  Here,  where  there  is  profit 


328          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

in  working  !  Here,  where  there  is  bliss  in  working  ! 
Here,  where  want  departs,  woe  vanishes,  weakness 
yields,  wickedness  itself  is  stemmed  in  its  torrent 
sweep  by  honest,  brave,  and  noble  labor ! 

In  you  I  see  agents  in  our  modern  civilization  of 
no  mean  importance  and  power.  Indeed,  I  do  not 
know  how  we  could  have  reached  our  present  proud 
position,  but  for  you  and  your  fellows  in  the  great 
army  of  mechanics.  We  have  our  forests,  but  how 
could  they  have  been  cut  down  without  axes  which 
you  helped  to  shape  and  whet?  How  could  these 
forests  have  been  floated  but  for  barges  which  your 
hands  helped  to  frame  and  build  ?  How  could  they 
have  been  sawn  but  for  mills  which  you  helped  to 
construct  and  engines  you  helped  to  fashion  ?  There 
are  mountains  full  of  precious  things,  such  as  coal, 
lead,  iron,  silver,  gold;  but  how  tunnel  these  with- 
out your  tools  and  toil  ?  How  transform  these  ores 
into  useful  shapes  and  adaptations,  but  for  yonr 
handiwork,  your  strong  limbs,  your  inventive  genius, 
your  manipulating  touch,  your  power  to  endure  the 
heat  of  furnace  and  the  expenditure  of  energy  in 
long  hours  and  \vearying  labors  ?  We  have  quarries 
where  slumber  slate,  and  marble,  and  granite,  and 
green-stone ;  but  every  crow-bar  speaks  of  you ; 
every  chisel  owns  your  paternity ;  every  trowel  and 
drilling-tool  came  forth  from  your  mechanic  work- 
shop. Here  is  glass ;  but  you  helped  to  melt  or 
blow  or  stain  it.  Here  is  masonry  ;  but  you  climbed 
the  scaffolding  and  scaled  the  turret.  Here  is  gas  ; 
but  you  made  the  meters,  and  you  molded  the 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  329 

piping  and  flung  out  the  bolt  and  screw  and  nail 
wherewith  the  factory  was  held  together,  the  fluid 
extracted,  and  the  light  air  transmitted  to  this  very 
temple  in  which  we  worship  to-night.  Yonder  organ 
is  your  handiwork ;  these  seats  are  the  fruit  of 
your  doings. 

The  past  is  as  full  of  your  achievements  as  the 
present.  The  P}Trainids  are  your  monuments.  The 
Parthenon  should  flush  your  brow  with  pride  ;  for 
what  could  Phidias  have  achieved  without  your  skill 
and  power?  The  Pharos,  whose  kindly  light  led 
many  a  pelted  bark  to  quiet  haven  ;  the  cathedrals  of 
the  Middle  Ages,  with  all  their  time-defying  massive- 
ness  and  beauty,  breeders  of  solemn  thoughts  and 
elevators  of  earth-prone  passions  and  desires ;  the 
asylums  where  want  and  wretchedness,  where  sadness 
and  despair,  are  sheltered  from  the  strife  of  tongues, 
the  arrows  of  outrageous  fortune,  and  the  pangs  of 
penury  and  oblivion  ;  the  breakwaters  and  bridges 
wherewith  ocean  is  beaten  back,  and  gulf  and  flood 
are  spanned  ;  the  tombs  and  mausoleums  where  repose 
our  dead  and  hang  our  wreaths  of  friendship  and  af- 
fection ;  the  watch-tower  whither  the  sage  climbs  to 
track  the  star ;  the  glass  in  which  the  distant  orb  is 
mirrored ;  the  laboratory  where  the  chemist  cross- 
questions  atoms  and  extorts  from  earth  and  air  their 
hoary  secrets,  and  the  very  instruments  of  glass  and 
steel  whereby  he  prosecutes  his  explorations — these, 
and  such  as  these,  proclaim  the  triumph  of  your  art, 
the  debt  we  owe  you,  and  the  honors  to  which  you  are 
most  justly  heirs ! 


330          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

You,  indeed,  contribute  unstinted  service  to  man 
in  his  endeavor  to  "  replenish  the  earth  and  subdue 
it."  Aided  by  you,  man  wins  back  his  forfeited 
crown  and  scepter  of  sovereignty  over  matter  and  its 
forces  and  adaptations.  Surely,  when  God  bade  man 
have  dominion  and  subdue  the  earth  you  were  in- 
cluded in  the  plan.  To  all  that  man  can  effect  in  this 
subjugation  you  necessarily  contribute.  The  spade, 
the  plow,  the  harrow,  the  reaping-hook,  the  thresh- 
ing-machine, the  wagon,  the  mill — all  included  in 
raising  food  for  man — are  the  products  of  your  me- 
chanic skill  and  labor. 

We  travel  on  stage-coach  :  you  constructed  it. 
"We  travel  by  horse  :  you  shod  him,  and  you  helped 
to  fashion  the  nails  that  bind  the  hoof  and  shoe  to- 
gether. We  travel  by  rail :  you  constructed  the  loco- 
motive and  laid  the  tracks.  We  travel  on  water  : 

We  know  what  master  laid  the  keel, 
What  workmen  wrought  the  ribs  of  steel, 
Who  made  each  mast  and  sail  and  rope, 
What  anvils  rang,  what  hammers  beat, 

in  constructing  the  noble  creature  that  night  and  day 
"  in  sunshine  and  in  stormy  weather,"  plowed  the 
hoary  main,  and  bore  you  to  Occident  or  orient 
lands  for  wealth,  for  culture,  or  for  recreation. 

You  cannot  create  matter,  but  you  can  transfer  it 
from  one  spot  to  another ;  you  can  mold  and  polish 
and  give  new  luster  to  the  raw  material  by  the  mani- 
fold adaptations  and  uses  for  which  your  dexterous 
manipulation  can  shape  it.  You  are  not  creators  of 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  331 

raw  material,  but  you  are  almost  so.  Every  stroke 
invests  with  worth  ;  every  delicate  impression  en- 
hances value.  Whether  it  be  the  clay  you  change 
into  brick,  or  the  brick  you  change  into  a  dwelling ; 
or  the  sand  you  change  into  a  sheet  of  glass,  or 
the  glass  you  change  into  a  window  or  mirror  or  the 
lens  of  a  telescope ;  or  the  cocoons  you  spin  into 
threads,  or  the  threads  you  change  into  robes  for 
the  dames  of  court  and  square  and  avenue — yes, 
you  come  very  nigh  the  rank  of  creators,  indeed. 
And  your  work,  undoubtedly,  has  raised  the  earth 
we  tread  to  an  infinitely  higher  rank  than  that  earth 
filled  when  man  first  opened  his  eyes  upon  its  fair 
and  ample  landscapes. 

Earth  was  so  constructed  by  our  God  that  some- 
thing was  left  for  man  to  accomplish  ;  some  latency 
to  call  forth  ;  some  adaptation  to  apply  ;  some  crude- 
ness  to  culture ;  some  feebleness  to  strengthen ; 
some  luxuriance  to  prune.  And  thus  scope  was  left 
for  the  development  of  the  forces  of  mechanic  art 
and  labor. 

I  have  been  impressed  by  the  three  terms  selected 
by  you  as  the  motto  of  your  society — Friendship — 
Truth — Love.  It  is  a  delightful  combination.  These 
elements  are  capable  of  producing  a  very  noble  type 
of  social  life. 

You  exist  to  foster  friendship.  He  is,  indeed, 
a  poor  man  who  has  not  found  a  friend.  No  doubt 
the  existence  of  such  a  man  is  a  rare  exception. 
Friendship  is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  develop- 
ment of  human  nature.  Man  is  scarcely  human 


332         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

lacking  friendship.  He  is  made  for  society.  Within 
the  soul  there  lurk  capacities  whose  final  end  is 
friendship.  To  enrich  the  heart,  to  enlarge  the 
understanding,  to  fashion  character,  there  must  be 
friendship.  There  must  forever  remain  an  undevel- 
oped region  of  our  being  till  some  friendship  hath 
been  formed.  Then  the  shaft  is  plunged,  the  secret 
place  of  our  nature  is  struck,  and  may  be  worked  into 
positive  productiveness  of  mental  and  moral  being. 

"  Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend,"  therefore 
accept  reproof  when  kindly  offered.  Let  no  friend 
of  yours  have  occasion  to  say,  as  said  Paul  to  some  of 
old  :  "  Am  I  therefore  become  your  enemy  because  I 
tell  you  the  truth  ? " 

Friendship  is  seen  in  defense  of  your  reputation 
when  absent.  Friendship  is  seen  in  steady  faithful- 
ness amid  vicissitudes  of  fortune.  The  true  friend  is 
born  for  adversity.  Tenacity  is  one  characteristic  of 
this  true  friendship.  Its  grip  is  steel-like.  Its  bonds 
are  adamant.  Not  when  honor  wreaths  your  brow  ; 
not  when  fame  trumpets  your  deeds  ;  not  when  pros- 
perity turns  all  you  touch  into  gold  and  all  you  plan 
into  fortune ;  not  then  doth  friendship  most  truly 
prove  itself.  Alas !  there  is  much  of  this  abroad. 
Success  enrings  us  with  troops  of  friends.  Power 
attracts  to  us  the  flatterer,  and  wealth  the  parasite, 
and  honor  the  incense-wafter.  But  such  as  these 
vanish  with  change  of  weather.  Let  the  skies  above 
us  darken ;  let  the  scene  around  us  put  on  winter 
vesture  ;  where  are  they  ?  Let  the  residence  be  no 
longer  in  the  square,  but  in  the  modest  retirement  of 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  333 

the  third-rate  street ;  let  the  equipage  no  longer 
sweep  you  round  the  park,  but  the  simple  five-cent 
horse-car  become  your  chariot ;  where  are  they  ? 
True  friendship  feels  not  the  change  of  conditions  ; 
it  is  rooted  in  character.  It  is  no  tropic  or  hot- 
house plant  or  flower.  The  pine  of  Alpine  snows ; 
the  oak  of  England's  hardy  winters — these  be  the 
symbols  of  that  which  you  call  friendship!  Born 
for  adversity,  it  "sticketh  closer  than  a  brother."  It 
flourishes  amid  poverty;  it  fruitens  in  disaster. 
When  the  winds  scorch,  it  is  a  hiding-place  ;  when 
the  soul  faints  with  the  burden,  it  is  the  "  shadow  of 
a  great  rock  in  a  weary  land."  May  such  "  friend- 
ship "  ever  be  yours  ! 

Truth — it  is  the  basis  and  the  bond  of  friendship 
as  of  society.  Indeed,  it  is  what  gravitation  is  to  the 
solar  system ;  without  it  there  could  not  be  society  at 
all.  Where  there  is  no  truth  there  is  no  trust ;  where 
there  is  no  trust  there  is  no  co-operation  ;  where 
there  is  no  co-operation  there  is  no  civilization.  For 
civilization  implies  a  community  of  interests  and  of 
life ,  citizens  are  civilians,  that  is,  civilized  human 
beings.  So  that  truth  is  the  foundation  of  all  that 
we  hold  most  sacred  and  valuable  in  modern  life.  It 
is  an  absolute  necessity  to  civilization,  as  much  so  as , 
air  or  light  or  food.  Therefore  a  society  aiming  at 
the  cultivation  of  veracity,  and  sworn  to  practice  it, 
is  worthy  of  all  commendation. 

Truth  is  honor ;  truth  is  honesty.  And  it  must  not 
be  limited  to  words.  It  must  pervade  our  daily 
deeds.  Into  all  we  do  we  must  put  truth,  as  into  all 


334         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

we  say.  The  truthful  mechanic  is  an  honest,  a  just 
mechanic.  Whether  seen  or  not,  the  work  is  true 
work.  Into  all  he  puts  his  best  skill,  his  best  expe- 
rience, his  best  patience.  There  is  nothing  slurred 
over  ;  there  is  nothing  slovenly  ;  there  is  nothing  su- 
perficial. Thoroughness  characterizes  all  he  purposes 
and  all  he  performs.  Truth  in  quantity  of  work 
done  ;  truth  in  quality  of  work  done.  Ah  !  this  is  a 
noble  ideal !  Here  is  room  for  conscience.  Here  is 
the  sphere  of  principle.  A  well-driven  nail ;  a'  well- 
planed  plank  ;  a  well-painted  back-door ;  a  well-riveted 
bolt ;  a  well-shod  wheel ;  a  well-stitched  harness — here 
is  truth  and  truthfulness  ! 

Nothing  else  wears ;  but  this  does.  The  false  wears 
out;  but  truth  wears  on,  and  brightens  as  it  wears, 
"  unto  the  perfect  day."  Veracity — this  is  what  we 
need  to-day  above  all  else.  Truth  in  the  coffee-dealer ; 
and  no  horse-beans  instead  of  coffee !  Truth  in  the 
milk-dealer ;  and  no  water,  chalk,  or  flour  instead  of 
milk !  Truth  in  the  gas-man ;  and  no  false  reading 
of  the  meter  when  the  family  are  at  the  seaside ! 
Truth  in  the  butcher ;  and  no  more  bone  in  the  beef- 
steak than  a  fair  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  meat ! 

Truth!  O  when  will  it  spring  out  of  the  earth? 
Our  political  life  is  fearfully  accountable  for  the  lack 
of  veracity  in  social  life.  Men — gentlemen — whom 
we  never  knew  to  prevaricate  in  social  intercourse 
will  trifle  with  truth  for  a  partisan  and  for  a  party. 
There  is  an  insidious  process  of  dry-rot  furthered 
by  this,  until  all  down  through  society  it  spreads,  and 
until  the  whole  is  eaten  into  dust  and  into  decay. 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  335 

The  very  spirit  of  exaggeration  in  humorousness — 
such  as  Mark  Twain  and  others  of  his  type  indulge  in 
—is  perilous.  It  destroys  reverence  for  the  truth. 
It  encourages  the  young  to  trifle  with  the  truth.  It 
familiarizes  the  talker  and  the  listener  with  exaggera- 
tion in  statement  for  the  sake  of  a  laugh. 

High  are  the  encomiums  paid  to  truthfulness.  We 
read  of  him  "  who  speaks  the  truth  in  his  heart ;  "  of 
one  of  whom  it  was  said  the  "  law  of  truth  was  on  his 
lips,  and  in  his  spirit  there  was  no  guile."  O,  this  is 
wealth  of  soul !  This  is  soundness  of  spirit !  This  is 
repose  and  satisfaction  unutterable  of  heart !  This  is 
manhood  in  its  most  regal  form !  This  is  heaven  come 
down  to  earth!  God.  the  God  of  truth,  give  you 
grace  to  "  speak  the  truth  every  one  to  his  neighbor ; 
for  you  are  members  one  of  another ! " 

All  hail,  then,  to  any  order  whose  motto  pledges  its 
members  to  truthfulness ! 

In  one  sentence : 

This  above  all, — To  thine  own  self  be  true; 
And  it  must  follow,  as  the  night  the  day, 
Thou  canst  not  tlien  be  false  to  any  man. 

Love — this  is  a  fitting  climax.  It  is  the  topstone, 
and  may  be  laid  with  rejoicing.  It  is  the  fruit  of  this 
stem  and  root,  and  the  golden  fruit  as  well.  Love ! 
which  prompts  you  to  "  look  every  one  not  alone  on 
his  own  things,  but  also  on  the  things  of  others." 
Love !  which  worketh  no  ill  to  one's  neighbor ;  and 
therefore  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  law.  Love !  which 
spurns  limitations  and  calls  every  man  "neighbor," 


GUAKE-'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

whatsoever  his  creed,  condition,  calling,  or  country. 
Love!  without  which  creed  howsoever  orthodox, 
almsgiving  howsoever  profuse,  and  zeal  for  a  cause 
even  to  martyrdom,  are  nothing.  Love !  gaining  that 
it  may  give  ;  making  us  charitable  in  our  judgments ; 
forgiving  in  our  dispositions ;  gentle  in  our  tempers ; 
generous  in  our  sympathies ;  self -forgetting  and  self- 
sacrificing  for  the  weal  of  others.  Love!  that  can 
be  brave  even  to  heroism  ;  constant  even  to  death. 
Love !  the  peacemaker  and  healer  of  strife.  Love ! 
that  is  as  eyes  to  the  blind,  speech  to  the  dumb,  feet 
to  the  lame.  Love ! .  that  "  bears  burdens,"  shares  re- 
proach, weeps  with  them  that  weep.  Love !  free  as 
the  air ;  healing  as  the  sunlight ;  fresh  as  spring ; 
gladdening  as  songs  of  birds ;  and  full  to  overflow- 
ing as  the  ever-bubbling  fountain  in  the  mountain's 
breast ;  free  from  all  fleshliness,  yet  glowing  as  ar- 
dent, tropic,  summer  skies. 

O  yes!  this  is,  indeed,  worthy  of  all  praise  as  the 
chiefest  of  the  three :  Friendship,  Truth,  Love.  If 
there  be  love,  there  will  be  friendship.  If  there  be 
love,  there  will  be  truth.  For  love  is  attraction ; 
and,  therefore,  friendship.  Love  worketh  no  ill  to 
the  friend  ;  and  therefore  is  truth.  Let  me  have  the 
last,  and  the  others  must  follow.  Let  not  the  others 
attempt  to  live  without  the  last. 

And  inasmuch  as,  though  made  to  love,  sin  has 
made  us  selfish ;  though  made  for  truth,  sin  has  made 
us  false ;  though  made  for  friendship,  sin  has  made 
us  enemies — that  these  three  may  be  the  inspiration 
of  your  lives,  the  soul  of  your  soul,  the  spring  of 


ADDRESS  TO  MECHANICS.  337 

your  motive,  the  energy  of  your  conduct,  O,  let  me 
say,  religion  is  necessary,  and  that  the  religion  of  our 
Lord  and  Saviour  Jesus  Christ.  He  was  friendship — 
"  I  have  called  you  friends."  He  was  truthful — "  full 
of  grace  and  truth."  He  was  love — "  as  I  have  loved 
you."  In  his  glorious  Gospel  these  three  are  provided 
for ;  these  three  are  generated  in  human  hearts ;  these 
three  have  been  developed  as  by  no  other  religion. 
Of  this  religion  become  personally  possessors.  Let 
it  dwell  richly  in  you. 

Cultivate  its  principles ;  bring  forth  its  fruits ;  and 
go  forth  assured  that  the  Master  Worker  shall  one 
day  hail  you  with  his  "  well  done,"  and  make  you 
sharers  together  of  his  fullness  of  joy — pleasures  for 
evermore. 


338         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 


EMERSON,  DARWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW. 

THE  death-roll  of  April,  1882,  will  not  soon  be  for- 
gotten ;  and  it  will  not  speedily  be  surpassed  in 
the  number  of  the  brilliant  names  it  bears. 

Death  is  no  respecter  of  persons.  The  prince  bows 
to  him  as  truly  as  the  peasant ;  the  millionaire,  as 
surely  as  the  pauper ;  the  saint,  as  certainly  as  the  sin- 
ner ;  the  sage,  lore  laden,  as  verily  as  the  clown  scarce 
more  intelligent  than  the  clod  he  cleaves  with  plow  or 
spade ;  youth,  with  all  its  pride  of  beauty  of  form,  of 
color  and  manner,  one  with  the  time-worn,  care-trusted 
veteran.  All  types  of  autocracy  bend  the  knee  to, 
yield  to,  the  withering  touch  of  the  scepter  of  this 
King  of  Terrors.  The  young  have  vanished  from  us ; 
the  hale  and  middle  aged  have  departed ;  the  men  of 
trusted  honor,  tested  integrity,  and  copious  experi- 
ence— leaders  in  enterprises  of  pith  and  progress — 
have  passed  beyond  the  sight,  the  touch,  of  those  who 
loved  and  honored  and  confided  in  them. 

But  I  now  think  chiefly  of  the  three  whose  names  are 
on  men's  lips  and  in  men's  thought  above  all  others, 
as  having — in  this  month  of  buds  and  blossoms,  of 
sunshine  and  of  showers,  of  music  in  bower  and  glen, 
from  bird  and  brooklet  —  passed  over  to  the  other 
side.  Singular,  is  it  not,  that  three  such  stars  should 
set  beyond  our  ken  within  one  brief  month  ?  Stars 


EMEESON,  DARWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.        339 

were  they,  indeed,  of  no  mean  magnitude  and  of  no 
common  splendor. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark  that  these  three  men  were 
all  monarchs  in  the  realm  of  thought,  of  mind,  of 
ideas.  They  were  leaders  and  commanders  of  the 
people,  not  because  of  their  vast  hoards  of  wealth  ;  not 
because  of-  their  military  prowess  and  achievements ; 
not  because  they  made  the  harvests  grow  by  the  "  red 
rain  "  shed  in  the  battles  they  fought ;  not  by  reason 
of  any  materialistic  might  possessed  or  wielded.  It 
was  with  minds  they  dealt ;  with  truths  they  f  ellow- 
shiped,  with  thoughts  they  grappled,  with  the  es- 
sences and  qualities  and  principles  of  things  they 
cherished,  enhancing  and  ennobling  friendship.  They 
were  mental  monarchs.  Thoughts  they  sought  to  ac- 
quire. Truth  they  endeavored  to  scrutinize.  Beauty 
they  pursued,  expounded.  Not  a  hill  did  they  tun- 
nel ;  not  a  bushel  of  corn  did  they  plant ;  not  a  stock- 
market  did  they  "  bull "  or  "  bear ; "  not  to  make 
dollars  did  they  plot  and  plan,  cogitate  and  calculate ; 
theirs  it  was  to  study  nature  and  read  men,  to  write 
essays  and  chant  songs. 

They  were  monarchs  in  the  realm  of  mind,  again 
be  it  said.  Whatever  power  they  wield  to-day  and  shall 
continue  to  wield,  will  be  the  power  of  thoughts; 
of  noble,  pure,  just,  beautiful  thoughts ;  thoughts  dis- 
covered in  hills  and  flowers  and  shells ;  thoughts 
extracted  from  history,  biography,  and  tradition- 
thoughts  in  harmony  with  fact,  with  verity ;  thoughts 
lifting  men  out  of  superstition,  freeing  them  from 

prejudice,  clarifying  men's  eves  so  that  they  might 
23 


340         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

read  and  interpret  nature,  purging  men's  judgment 
so  that  they  might  estimate  accurately  the  force  of 
facts,  the  value  of  theories,  the  worth  of  realities. 
Greater  than  the  word  of  conqueror;  greater  than 
the  scepter  of  czar,  is  the  grasp  of  these  chiefs  of 
men.  Each  could  wield  the  pen.  Each  was  master  of 
words.  Each  had  the  eye  or  the  ear  for  whatsoever 
things  were  true  or  wise  or  fair.  This  is  enviable 
sovereignty.  No  throne  is  equal  to  the  throne  of 
truth.  No  kingdom  can  compare  with  that  within 
the  souls  of  men.  No  homage  is  so  genuine  or  so 
grateful  as  that  offered  those  by  God's  own  hand 
crowned,  robed,  and  sceptered,  kings  by  divine  right 
and  by  the  grace  of  God. 

Not  all  great  minds  are  to  be  admired ;  not  all 
thoughts  conceived  and  expressed  by  great  minds  are 
entitled  to  admiration.  The  thoughts  by  which  con- 
science is  aided  in  her  sovereignty  over  conduct  and 
character ;  the  thoughts  by  which  hearts  are  purged 
from  baseness,  made  large  by  lovingness,  made  more 
generous,  more  pitiful,  made  brave  for  duty— daily 
duty ;  the  thoughts  by  which  gloom  is  chased  from 
our  sides,  life's  work  is  performed  with  courage, 
and  death's  bereavements  borne  with  the  patience  of 
hope ;  the  thoughts  by  which  our  conceptions  of  God 
are  made  more  luminous,  ample,  inspiring,  and  hal- 
lowing ;  the  thoughts  by  which  soul  life  is  nourished, 
built  up,  and  amplified — O,  these  are  the  thoughts 
which  constrain  us  to  thank  God  for  the  men  who 
conceived  and  felt  and  wrote  and  sang  and  painted 
and  lived  them!  The  thoughts  that  give  a  new 


EMERSON,  DARWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.       341 

meaning  to  the  meanest  flower ;  a  new  splendor  to 
the  setting  sun;  a  new  grandeur  to  the  tumbling 
ocean  ;  a  new  awe  to  the  hoary  forest ;  a  new  sublim- 
ity to  the  midnight  skies  ;  a  new  luster  to  goodness  ; 
a  new  dignity  to  a  holy  life ;  a  new  rapture  to  Sab- 
bath worship ;  and  a  new  attraction  to  the  "  city  that 
hath  foundations,  whose  builder  and  maker  is  God  " — 
these  are  the  thoughts  to  which  we  offer  the  palace  of 
our  understanding,  the  throne  of  our  conscience,  and 
the  shrine  of  our  heart !  These  thoughts  do  not  die. 
They  are  heirs  of  the  ages.  They  are  the  offspring  of 
immortal  spirits.  They  outlive  empires.  They  oat- 
live  Declarations  of  Independence.  They  survive  the 
earthquakes  and  the  floods  of  revolutions.  They  are 
vestured  with  robes  that  wax  not  old.  They  wear 
crowns  of  life.  They  own  an  inheritance  that  fadeth 
not  away. 

Of  the  three  men,  Emerson  seems  to  me  to  have 
specially  emphasized  the  dignity  of  spirit,  the  grand- 
eur of  the  human  soul,  the  native  divinity  of  truth, 
the  peerless  greatness  of  those  verities  that  eye  can- 
not see,  nor  hand  handle,  nor  time  assail  or  dissipate. 

If  any  man  of  this  age  and  race  believed  in  the 
spiritual  and  invisible,  in  the  powers  that  are  not  seen 
and  that  are  eternal,  Emerson  was  that  man.  Infinite 
antithesis  was  he  to  the  sneering,  sensuous  materialist. 
He  sought  to  reach  the  immutable  behind  the  chang- 
ing ;  the  real  beneath  the  seeming ;  the  absolute 
beyond  the  accidental.  "With  the  deep  things  of 
existence  it  was  his  delight  to  speak,  and  from  them 
draw  meaning.  I  confess,  indeed,  that  I  do  not 


342         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

always  understand  him.  But  why  should  I  expect  so 
to  do  ?  It  needs  a  pinion  strong  as  his  own  to  follow 
him,  and  an  eye  as  eagle-like  in  its  strength  and  keen- 
ness as  ids  to  gaze  without  fatigue  and  faltering 
upon  the  profound  verities  and  essences  in  which  he 
found  his  chief  joy.  I  accept  by  faith  what  Emer- 
sonians  assure  me  their  great  high-priest  teaches.  He 
was  a  clairvoyant ;  I  am  not.  He  could  float  on  a  gos- 
samer web  as  on  a  chariot,  when  my  throbbing  brain 
must  grow  dizzy,  could  move  in  air  too  rare  for  my 
coarse-tissued  lungs.  But  when  I  can  understand  him 
I  am  refreshed ;  I  feed  on  the  finest  of  the  wheat. 
He  is  broad-souled  in  his  sympathies ;  he  is  catholic- 
spirited  ;  he  sees  good  in  every  thing,  and  finds  it  in 
every  one.  To  Mm  God  is  in  every  thing  and  in 
every  one. 

Sometimes  I  think  him  a  pantheist.  He  recognizes 
divinity  ever  present  with  and  acting  through  nature 
and  man ;  but  seems  'scarce  to  believe  in  a  personal 
deity  existing  apart  from  his  creatures.  He  is  opti- 
mistic. He  believes  in  the  progress  of  man,  in  the 
growth  of  goodness,  in  the  triumph  of  truth  and 
righteousness. 

His  thoughts  are  polished  pebbles ;  many  of  them 
are  diamonds.  They  are  crystallizations  of  far  reach- 
ing observation  and  arduous  introspective  study.  Yet 
are  these  thoughts  of  his,  I  think,  but  for  the  few ; 
but  for  those  who  haunt  and  linger  in  the  Delectable 
Mountains  of  abstraction  and  introspection.  I  do  not 
believe  the  thoughts  of  Emerson  have  ever  so  told 
upon  the  practical  life  of  noble  workers  for  God  and 


EMEKSON,  DAEWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.        343 

man  as  Carlyle's.  Carlyle  lived  again  in  Kingsley,  in 
Robertson,  in  Frederick  Maurice,  and  in  many  others, 
by  the  generative  force  of  his  teachings  as  the  prophet 
of  reality  against  shams,  of  work  against  sentirnent- 
alism,  of  earnestness  of  conviction  as  against  formal, 
traditional  beliefs. 

Emerson's  thoughts  required  "  bodies  celestial "  for 
their  expression.  Carlyle's  thoughts  found  them- 
selves at  home  in  "bodies  terrestrial."  I  know  the 
glory  of  the  celestial  is  one,  and  the  glory  of  the 
terrestrial  is  another;  and  I  should  not  dare  at- 
tempt to  dim  the  splendor  of  the  ethereal  by  any 
thing  I  say  in  appreciation  of  the  sublunary  form  in 
which  Carlyle  has  walked  the  earth  and  worked  out 
righteousness. 

Dr.  Darwin  needs  no  such  imperfect,  inadequate 
eulogy  as  my  poor  powers  might  offer  to  his  memory. 
Xo  one  who  knows  what  he  is  talking  about  ques- 
tions Darwin's  immense  ability  as  a  scientist  in  his 
special  department  He  inherited  the  gift,  even  as  a 
beaver  or  a  bee  inherit  the  architectural  power  pos- 
sessed by  each.  And  he  faithfully  stirred  up  the  gift 
that  was  in  him.  He  traveled  with  this  intent.  He 
read,  conversed,  studied,  and  observed,  as  very  few 
men  have  done.  He  is  worthy  of  all  praise  for  the 
accuracy,  the  keenness,  the  conscientiousness  of  his 
observations.  He  sought  to  interpret  nature.  Almost 
weariless  diligence  characterized  his  efforts. 

He  loved  truth ;  no  doubt  of  this.  Any  price 
would  he  pay  for  a  fact.  He  valued  them,  for  he 
knew  how  rare  they  were.  He  knew  the  difference 


344         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDEESSES. 

between  fact  and  fancy.  Facts  were  to  him  all  es- 
sential as  tlie  basis  of  his  theorizing. 

And  he  was  courageous  as  well.  He  had  the 
courage  of  a  hero.  He  was  courageous  enough  to 
confess  his  errors.  He  was  courageous  enough  to 
confess  that  facts  were  lacking  to  sustain  his  theory 
or  hypothesis.  No  man  was  fairer  as  an  antagonist. 
He  put  the  opposite  case  as  frankly  as  man  could. 
He  admitted  objections,  acknowledged  defects,  and 
calmly  waited  further  revelations. 

He  believed  in  God.  He  believed  in  the  Creator 
of  life.  And  he  believed  that  his  hypothesis  presented 
a  worthier  conception  of  God  than  the  views  enter- 
tained by  those  who  differed  from  him. 

His  writings  are  classics  ;  they  are  matchless  for 
their  purity  of  style,  their  clearness  of  statement, 
their  evident  honesty  of  aim  arid  spirit.  And  though 
you  differ  from  him,  you  say,  "  This  is  a  gentleman 
as  truly  as  he  is  a  scientist." 

Man  is  made  to  study  nature.  "  The  works  of  the 
Lord  are  great;  sought  out  of  all  them  that  have 
pleasure  therein."  In  such  study  mind  is  made 
vio;orous,  agile,  masculine.  For  nature's  is  God's 

O  '  O  ? 

handwriting,  and  every  line  written  by  God  is  full  of 
thoughts.  No  hue  of  summer  ;  no  voice  of  autumn  ; 
no  motion  of  star ;  no  form  of  landscape ;  no  instinct 
of  animal,  no  rush  of  tempest,  but  enclasps  a  thought. 
To  find  the  thought  develops  mind ;  to  gain  it  en- 
riches the  understanding. 

Nature  is  thus  full  of  Deity.  And  to  discover  his 
plan,  to  read  off  his  method,  is  the  glory,  as  it  is  the 


EMERSON,  DAKWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.       345 

joy,  of  man.  Once  man  had  no  other  Bible.  True, 
his  eternal  power  and  godhead  were  understood  by 
the  things  which  were  seen  and  studied.  But  much 
more  now.  To  fully  study  the  works  of  God  men 
needed  to  catch  the  spirit  of  his  word.  And  to-day 
only  where  the  spirit  of  that  word  permeates  society 
and  molds  opinion,  character,  and  life,  do  we  find 
the  works  of  God  correctly  read  and  passionately 
studied. 

Our  age  is  pre-eminently  distinguished  by  its  love 
of  nature  and  its  acquaintance  with  nature's  proper- 
ties, forces,  laws.  Such  studies  as  Darwin's,  added 
to  such  philosophic  generalizations  as  Spencer's,  give 
to  my  own  mind  clearer  apprehension  of  the  great- 
ness of  God ;  the  harmony  of  God's  plans  with  his 
attributes.  They  increase  my  faith  in  order,  in  sys- 
tem, in  plan,  in  law.  And  if  in  plan,  then  in  a 
Planner ;  if  in  purpose,  then  in  a  Designer  ;  if  in  law, 
then  in  a  Law-giver ;  if  in  unity,  then  in  one  all-com- 
prehending and  all-perfect  Spirit,  expressing  the  es- 
sential oneness  of  his  being  in  the  profound  harmony, 
because  unity,  of  his  works. 

Man  is  made  for  the  beautiful.  The  beautiful  is 
made  for  man.  This  is  one  of  the  luxuries  furnished 
us  by  him  who  made  us.  It  is  evidence  that  we  are 
not  treated  as  mendicants,  but  as  sons.  It  gives  us 
rare  hints  of  the  riches  of  his  goodness,  with  whom 
we  have  to  do.  He  wishes  us  to  understand  that  life 
is  not  sheer  existence ;  it  is  a  feast  of  fat  things. 
Therefore  the  sentiment  lurks  within  us  awaiting 
contact  through  the  senses,  with  that  without  us 


34:6         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

which  shall  appeal  to,  call  into  play,  and  gratify,  the 
love  of  the  beautiful. 

Therefore  are  we  in  such  a  world  as  this.  For  is 
not  this  a  museum  of  art  ?  Listen  to  its  sounds  :  is  it 
not  an  academy  of  music  ?  Gaze  upon  its  landscapes  : 
is  it  not  a  gallery  of  tine  arts  ?  Wander  through  its 
glens  and  groves :  is  it  not  a  conservatory  filled  with 
fragrances  and  forms  and  hues  that  can  inspire  the 
breast  with  ecstasy  and  compel  us  to  exclaim,  "  How 
great  is  thy  goodness,  and  how  great  is  thy  beauty  !  " 
Just  now  it  is  altogether  true.  The  trees  putting  on 
their  mantles  of  many  colors  ;  the  green  grass  carpet- 
ing the  park  and  garden  with  its  glossy  velvet ;  the 
glorious  sunrisings  and  the  pomp  of  golden  or  em- 
purpled eve ;  the  freshness  and  balminess  of  the 
upturned  sod  and  mellow  air;  these  all  tell  us  of  a 
God  who  loves  to  till  our  hearts  with  gladness  through 
the  senses  and  the  imagination. 

And  there  are  men  now  and  then  raised  up  specially 
equipped,  physically,  mentally,  morally,  for  this  task 
of  love ;  with  the  gift  of  eye  and  ear ;  of  brain  and 
sensibility ;  of  intuitional  ken  and  fancy ;  of  heart 
to  throb  responsive  to,  and  tuned  to  draw  forth  from, 
all  in  nature  and  in  human  nature  that  is  fair  to  look 
upon,  lovely  to  remember.  They  may  have  special 
fitness  for  transferring  all  they  see  of  beauty  to  can- 
vas ;  they  may  have  fitness  to  transcribe  it  to  marble  ; 
they  may  have  fitness  to  voice  it  in  melody  ;  they 
may  have  the  gift  of  language,  of  words,  whereby,  in 
stanza  and  in  idyll,  the  thing  of  beauty  shall  live  and 
work  forever. 


EMERSON,  DAKWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.      347 

And  such  a  one  was  Longfellow.  Was  he  not  a 
poet  ?  Was  he  not  a  maker  ?  Was  not  his  the  eye 
in  which  resides  the  faculty  divine?  Was  not  his 
the  ear  fit  to  catch  all  modulations  and  harmonies? 
Was  not  his  the  harp  seolian,  whose  every  string 
changed  all  that  breathed  upon  it  into  song?  Was 
not  his  a  mastery  of  words,  vivid,  picturesque,  rhyth- 
mic, equal  to  the  utterances  of  all  such  thoughts  as 
long  for  outlet  from  the  ivory  palace  of  his  chaste, 
cultured  heart  and  memory? 

Surely  he  was  a  singer.  Surely  he  was  sent  to  serve 
his  generation  as  truly  as  the  inventor  of  the  eewing- 
machine,  the  telephone,  the  electric  light,  or  as  the 
famous  manufacturer  of  Colt's  revolver  and  the 
self -helpful,  self -depend  ing  bowie-knife  of  the  Texan 
frontiersman. 

Blessed  and  divine  gift !  the  gift  of  poetry.  The 
sorrows  turned  to  joys;  the  dismal  nights  filled 
with  music ;  the  lonely  backwood  huts  illumined  as 
with  light  from  angel  forms ;  the  specters  of  doubt 
chased  away  ;  the  broken,  shattered  lives  repaired  for 
blessed  work ;  the  toilsome  journeys  o*'er  tuftless, 
tawny  sands  gladly  traveled  ;  the  fierce  battles  bravely 
fought;  the  fretful  cares  lulled  to  slumber;  the  high 
aims  bred  and  nourished  within  us ;  the  Sabbath 
repose  distilled  upon  the  enfevered  heart ;  the  visions 
beatific  gained  while  the  poem  hath  been  read  or 
repeated  —  will  all  tell  us  how  generous  the  boon 
conferred  when  God  sends  one  of  his  children,  clad  in 
"  singing  robes,"  to  mingle  with  the  denizens  of  this 
sad  world. 


348         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

But  all  this  must  not,  sliall  not,  render  me  oblivious 
to  the  fact  that  from  not  one  of  these  great  men  has 
the  world  received  testimony  to  their  faith  in  and 
loyalty  to  my  Saviour. 

I  am  not  here  to  sit  in  judgment  upon  their 
inner  life ;  that  is  with  God,  with  him  alone.  But 
these  three  men  were  the  product  of  a  Christian 
civilization.  Their  mental  being  grew  up  under 
Christian  conditions ;  in  social  laws  and  maxims  and 
customs  altogether  Christian.  They  were  not  the 
children  of  Brahmins,  the  sons  of  Buddhists,  the  off- 
spring of  Mohammedanism.  The  schools  in  which 
they  studied  were  Christian ;  the  universities  in 
which  they  taught  were  Christian.  The  tongue  they 
spoke  was  a  Christianized  tongue.  The  great  poets 
and  sages  they  loved  so  well,  from  Spenser  to  Ten- 
nyson, from  Shakspeare  to  Wordsworth,  were  all 
the  product  of  Christianity.  What  had  they  that 
they  did  not  receive  from  Christ  ?  What  did  they 
not  owe  to  Christ?  Wherefore  did  they  not,  like 
honest  men,  confess  their  debt  to  Christ,  aye,  pub- 
licly, so  that  no  man  might  doubt  their  faith  in 
him  ?  What  proof  have  they  left  us  that  they  were 
honest  enough  to  acknowledge  the  claims  of  such  a 
benefactor  upon  their  heads  and  their  hearts  ? 

In  such  an  age  as  this  silence  here  is  disloyalty — 
silence  here  is  treason.  The  nobler  you  make  them, 
the  more  mysterious  their  action.  If  so  noble,  why 
not  confess  the  Christ?  Could  any  thing  be  more 
worthy  a  noble  soul?  With  all  their  culture  they 
were  crude  ;  with  all  their  catholicity  they  were  sec- 


EMERSON.  DARWIN,  AND  LONGFELLOW.       349 

tarian ;  with,  all  their  breadth  they  were  narrow ; 
with  all  their  subtlety  they  were  stupid;  with  all 
their  wisdom  they  were  fools. 

Never  shall  I  think  or  feel  otherwise.  I  cannot 
give  my  utmost  respect  or  admiration  to  any  scholar, 
to  any  honest  truth-seeker,  to  any  sage  in  Christian 
lands  in  this  nineteenth  century,  who  withholds  from 
my  divine  Saviour  the  supreme  confidence,  affection, 
homage,  to  which  he  is  entitled.  Though  I  have  all 
knowledge  and  understand  all  mysteries,  though  I 
speak  with  tongues  of  men  and  of  angels,  and  have 
not  love,  I  am  nothing.  And  "  if  any  man  love  not 
the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  let  him  be  anathema."  Moses, 
not  Mohammed — Paul,  not  Plato — Christ,  not  Con- 
fucius, for  me !  Let  all  the  sages  of  the  past  appear. 
Let  them  rehearse  and  recount  their  teachings.  Lis- 
ten to  their  melodious  utterances.  Do  full  justice 
to  their  subtle  themes.  Admire  their  marvelous 
glimpses.  See  in  .them  beams  of  the  light  "that 
lighteth  every  man  that  cometh  into  the  world." 
But  behold  the  man !  And  as  you  contrast  them 
with  Him,  all  exclaim;  "A  greater  than  Plato  is 
here!" 


350         GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AJSD  ADDRESSES. 


M( 


MASONIC  ORATION.* 

"OST  WORSHIPFUL  GKAND  MASTER  AND  BRETHREN 
OF  THE  GRAND  LODGE  :  I  am  but  a  novice  in 
Masonry,  for  "  I  am  but  of  yesterday  "  as  to  my  mem- 
bership, compared  with  many  of  the  sage  and  vener- 
able brethren  before  me.  This  will  plead  for  me 
should  I  fail  in  my  endeavor  to  express  a  few  of  my 
convictions  regarding  our  honorable  fraternity.  But 
what  I  lack  in  age  of  membership  may  be  made  up 
by  fullness  of  youthful  fervor  and  ardent  admiration 
of  the  system  into  whose  mysteries  I  have  had  the 
honor  of  initiation.  To  me  it  has  all  the  fascination 
of  novelty,  and  in  me  there  burns  all  the  enthusiasm 
of  a  first  love.  From  the  freshness  of  my  emotions 
I  give  utterance  to  the  thoughts  of  the  hour. 

Our  system  has  many  elements  of  attraction,  and 
seems  to  me  to  have  incorporated  not  a  few  principles 
fitted  to  impart  stability  and  guarantee  a  noble  im- 
mortality. 

I.  It  potently  appeals  to  us  by  its  antiquity.  We 
are  so  constituted  by  our  Creator  as  to  be  susceptible 
of  such  an  appeal.  Yastness  of  duration  gratifies  our 
sense  of  the  sublime,  inspires  us. with  awe,  lifts  us  into 
a  mood  of  reverence,  chastens  and  subdues  the  spirit. 

*  Delivered  before  the  Grand  Lodge  E.  &  A.  M.  of  California,  Oc- 
tober 10,  1878. 


MASONIC  ORATION.  351 

Thus  the  ocean  touches  us,  for  it  is  old.  Navies  have 
swept  its  waters  and  commerce  plowed  its  billows ; 
but  it  is  older  than  the  white-winged  ships  of  Tarshish 
or  the  men  of  war  that  roamed  amidst  the  Isles  of 
Greece,  at  once  repellers  of  the  Persian  tyrant,  and 
defenders  of  their  own  most  sacred  liberties.  Old ! 
Who  knows  when  it  lay  in  the  hollow  of  God's  hand, 
even  as  a  dew-drop  within  a  rose-bud,  until  he  had 
carved  for  it  a  dwelling-place  in  earth's  deep  bosom, 
and  there  set  it  to  be  the  everlasting  mirror  of  his 
own  infinitude  ?  Its  age  overpowers  and  spell-binds 
us.  But  even  this  aged  thing  is  as  nothing  compared 
with  his  age  who  is  the  Supreme  Architect  of  the 
Universe,  and  in  whom  we  place  our  trust.  He  is  the 
Ancient  of  days.  When  not  a  billow  heaved,  not  a 
wild  bird  sang,  not  an  ancient  hill  kissed  the  heavens ; 
when  not  a  ray  of  light  had  traveled,  not  a  planet 
wheeled,  not  a  sun  burned ;  when  not  a  seraph  had 
waved  his  pinion,  or,  with  the  wing  wherewith  he 
swept  into  the  presence  of  his  Maker,  veiled  his  face 
—then  was  he,  the  All-Sufficient,  the  I  Am  ;  and  in 
his  Nature,  the  very  principles  which  form  the  essence 
and  strength  of  our  ancient  Order — truth,  justice, 
love,  dwelt ;  having  neither  beginning  of  day  nor  end 
of  life.  Our  principles  are  as  old  as  God. 

And,  going  back  to  the  distinguished  persons  of 
whom  we  speak  as  the  historic  founders  of  our  Order, 
through  what  centuries  are  we  borne ;  on  what  ruins 
of  empires  look  we  down.  Dynasties  blotted  out ; 
seats  of  kingdoms  transformed  from  oriental  to  west- 
ern capitals,  from  southern  to  temperate  zones ;  the 


352         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Cresars  no  more ;  the  Ptolemies  forgotten  ;  the  teach- 
ers, artists,  poets,  orators,  statesmen,  of  Greece,  but  a 
name  an<J  a  memory.  But  in  us  there  glows  the  fire 
of  an  unwasted  youth.  "We,  after  the  rush  of  centu- 
ries, renew  our  youth  like  the  eagle!  We,  despite 
the  perils  and  trials  and  slanders  of  foes,  secular  and 
spiritual,  ask  our  enemies  to  trace  a  wrinkle  upon  our 
brow,  or  pluck  a  gray  hair  from  our  exuberant  locks. 
We,  like  Israel's  great  leader,  after  the  lapse  of  near 
three  thousand  years,  move  forth,  bathed  in  the  dew 
of  the  morning,  with  eye  undimrned,  with  form  erect, 
with  natural  strength  unabated,  destined  to  run  a  race 
with  time,  and  prove,  in  our  principles,  heirs  of  a  ra- 
diant and  rapturous  immortality. 

II.  It  appeals  to  ns  by  the  elements  of  the  myste- 
rious. This  susceptibility  of  our  nature  is  incessantly 
touched,  from  the  moment  of  our  entrance  upon  life. 
We  enter  at  birth  a  universe  in  which  wonder  is 
excited,  curiosity  elicited,  investigation  challenged,  at 
every  step  of  our  progress  from  the  cradle  to  the  tomb. 
Every  leaf  incloses  a  mystery,  every  atom  is  a  world, 
and  every  insect  an  abyss  of  wonders.  The  ceaseless 
play  of  life  within  me,  the  genesis  of  a  thought,  the 
growth  of  a  habit,  the  formation  of  character — a 
mystery,  over  which  a  Plato  bends  with  fervent  gaze, 
and  in  whose  mazes  a  Locke  may  well  lose  his  way. 
And  this  mysteriousness,  investing  all  things,  is  no 
mean  stimulant  in  the  breast  and  brain  of  traveler  and 
explorer;  of  scholar  poring  over  dusty  scroll;  of 
scientist,  as  he  follows  the  comet ;  as  he  deciphers 
the  fossilography  of  the  hoary  hills ;  as  he  "  fixes  a 


MASONIC  ORATION.  353 

sunbeam,"  and  cross-questions  it  by  his  spectrum ;  as  he 
heaves  the  lead  in  the  ethereal  waters  of  his  unseen 
spirit ;  or  as,  with  Bancroft,  he  explores  the  sepul- 
chral ruins  of  the  tribes  that  once  lived  and  roamed, 
hunted,  fought,  and  died,  when  our  forefathers  wor- 
shiped Thor,  or  burned  incense  at  the  shrine  of 
Woden. 

Man  is  "  Nature's  Priest,"  and  as  he  pursues  his  re- 
searches he  is  but  lifting,  fold  after  fold,  the  veils 
suspended  in  Nature's  temple ;  and  each  parted  veil 
at  once  admits  him  within  a  light  of  revelation  more 
startling  and  enravishing,  and  gives  his  clarified  eye 
to  look  upon  another  curtain  of  mystery,  behind 
which  lurk  secrets  yet  more  subtle — wonders  still 
more  entrancing.  The  greater  the  mysteries  solved 
the  profounder  is  the  conviction  that  these  are  but 
transparencies  compared  with  the  thicker  curtains 
that  yet  shall  dare  the  trembling  fingers  to  lift  or 
part  them.  No  one  is  so  alive  to  the  fact  of  mystery 
as  the  man  most  wealthy  in  his  acquisition  of  the  lore 
of  physics  and  of  metaphysics.  And  yet  the  mystery 
is  not  because  of  scantiness,  but  because  of  super- 
fluity of  the  element.  "  It  .is  dark  with  excess  of 
light." 

The  light  of  morning  revealing,  after  a  starless 
night  of  tempest,  while  it  dissolves  the  mystery  of 
the  gloom,  spreads  before  and  around  me  new  mys- 
teries :  a  mystery  in  every  pebble  and  in  every  plant ; 
in  every  insect's  instinct  and  in  every  wild  bird's 
plumage ;  in  every  snow-flake  and  in  every  gem  ;  in 
every  laughing,  leaping  school-boy's  spirit;  and  in 


354         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

every  venerable  politician  who  assures  us  that  he  has 
expended  the  vitality  of  his  brain  and  being  in  self- 
sacrificing  service  for  his  country's  weal.  Mystery  ! 
mystery !  It  is  every-where :  and  when,  by  dying, 
we  shall  pass  "  within  the  veil,"  while  upon  much,  if 
not  all,  the  mystery  of  this  life  explanatory  light 
shall  fall — never  as  then  shall  the  soul  apprehend  the 
inscrutability  of  being.  Then,  as  for  the  first  time, 
shall  the  marvels  of  existence  move  the  fountain  of 
the  great  deep  of  our  nature,  and  bear  us  away  and 
away  for  aye  in  effort  to  solve,  discover,  and  explore. 
This  is  one  of  the  charms  of  the  life  that  now  is ;  it 
shall  be  no  less  an  element  in  the  felicity  of  the  life 
that  is  to  come. 

Our  Order  gratifies  and  provides  for  the  healthy 
play  of  our  nature  by  its  sublime  mysteries.  And 
these  are  not  mysteries  of  iniquity.  Slanderous 
libels  have  been  uttered  respecting  them,  I  know. 
They  are  but  the  spiteful,  the  malignant  fabrications 
of  sanguinary  fanatics  or  of  a  depraved  priesthood. 
With  ignoble  deeds  of  darkness  we  have  no  sym- 
pathy. Of  what  we  do,  of  what  we  teach,  we  fear 
not  any  criticism.  Honor  is  sacred  ;  reputation  is  in- 
violably shielded  ;  and  every  brother  can  exclaim,  "  I 
dare  do  all  that  may  become  a  man  ! " 

Who  can  object  to  or  oppose  such  a  system  as  ours  ? 
Is.  he  a  moralist  ?  Then  here  may  he  learn  the  purest 
ethics  and  practice  the  most  manly  virtues.  Is  he  a 
patriot  ?  Then  here  may  he  be  helped  in  the  culture 
of  those  principles  which  uphold  government,  rev- 
erence law,  and  promote  that  righteousness  which 


MASONIC  ORATION.  355 

exalts  a  nation.  Is  he  a  philanthropist  ?  Then  we 
can  assure  him  that  no  less  profoundly  than  he  do  we 
believe  that  pure  Masonry,  and  undeh'led  before  God 
the  Father,  is  this — that  we  visit  the  widow  and  the 
fatherless  in  their  affliction,  and  keep  ourselves  un- 
spotted in  the  world.  Is  he  an  antiquarian  ?  Then 
here  are  hoary  annals  for  his  study  and  antique  cus- 
toms for  his  scrutiny.  Is  he  a  poet  ?  Then  here  are 
symbols  for  his  fancy  and  sublimities  for  his  imagina- 
tion. Is  he  a  presbyter  or  priest  ?  Then  we  tell  him 
that  religion  shall  find  in  us  one  of  her  most  useful 
auxiliaries,  one  of  her  most  fair  and  generous  hand- 
maidens, and  that  the  theology  which  he  inculcates 
we  live  to  embody.  We,  as  he,  believe  in  one  God ; 
as  he,  in  one  great  light  of  conduct,  the  Holy  Bible ; 
as  he,  in  one  great  comfort  and  help  in  all  seasons  of 
trial,  peril,  woe — even  prayer ;  and,  as  he,  anticipate 
another  and  a  better  world. 

III.  It  appeals  to  us  as  made  for  self-government. 
At  an  early  stage  we  are  reminded  of  the  duty  of 
self-rule.  The  compass  is  the  impressive  symbol  of 
this  capability  of  our  nature.  This  is  manhood.  "What 
is  manhood  without  self-rule  ?  Our  nature  is  placed 
in  our  own  care,  subject  to  our  own  control,  at  the 
will  of  our  own  capacity  of  self-disposal.  What  we 
shall  make  of  ourselves  depends  upon  self-government. 
To  what  extent  we  shall  develop  our  being  depends 
upon  self-government.  "Whether  our  career  shall  be 
one  of  beauty  and  of  blessedness,  or  one  of  meanness 
and  of  malediction,  depends  upon  self-government. 

Self-government     restrains,     but,     by    restraining, 
24 


356         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

conserves  — by  restraining,  intensifies.  This  makes 
man  noble.  Matter,  the  servant  of  mind  ;  instinct, 
the  servant  of  reason ;  impulse,  the  servant  of  duty  ; 
pleasure,  the  servant  of  principle — aye,  this  is  man- 
hood, and  this  is  to  be  a  Mason.  This  is  to  be  a  Free- 
mason. Free — there  is  melody  in  the  word — there  is 
divinity  in  the  thought— free  !  freedom  !  This  hath 
given  eloquence  to  the  tongue  of  the  stammerer; 
this  hath  breathed  inspiration  through  the  heart  of 
the  prosaic  and  made  him  a  poet :  this  hath  studded 
the  duskiest  heavens  of  tyranny  with  most  lustrous 
orbs — the  heroes  of  all  ages ;  this  hath  impelled  the 
chariot  of  human  civilization ;  this  hath  peopled  the 
forest  with  those  armies  of  the  invincibles  of  our  race, 
who,  rather  than  pawn  away  their  birthright  of  lib- 
erty, dared  the  perils  of  tempest  and  of  billow,  of 
wildest  savage  and  of  fiercest  clime ;  gave  up  their 
all  of  home  and  country;  bade  farewell  to  the  sepul- 
chers  of  their  holy  dead  and  to  the  shrines  of  their 
holy  faith  ;  that,  beneath  foreign  skies  and  on  virgin 
soil,  they  might  lay  broad  and  deep  the  basis  of  a  new 
temple,  within  whose  walls  freemen  should  worship, 
think,  and  breathe,  unharmed  by  priest,  unawed  by 
king ;  truth  its  only  but  all-sufficient  strength ;  purity 
its  chief  but  never-fading  ornament ;  and  love  the 
light-bathed  atmosphere  in  which  it  should  repose, 
long  as  the  sun  and  moon  endure.  And,  as  builders 
of  that  shrine  and  guardians  of  it,  we  Freemasons 
vow  to  practice  the  sublime  craftmanship  of  self-gov- 
ernment ;  remembering  that  "  he  who  striveth  for  the 
mastery  is  temperate  in  all  things : "  never  forgetting 


MASONIC  ORATION.  357 

that  "  greater  is  he  who  ruleth  his  own  spirit  than  he 
who  taketh  a  city." 

And  what  a  province  of  self-government  is  that  of 
the  tongue  !  We  are  men,  for  we  can  speak.  We 
can  engage  in  a  commerce  of  thought  by  language. 
All  I  have,  of  feeling,  culture,  motive,  by  speech 
may  be  .yours,  to  thrill  with  ecstasy,  to  inflame  with 
rage,  to  pollute  fancy,  or  to  purify  taste.  For  there 
is  the  witty  tongue,  with  its  lightning-like  flashes, 
rapid  combinations,  subtle  and  exquisite  affinities  of 
strange  extremes,  eliciting  at  once  the  wonder  and 
the  admiration  of  all  who  listen.  There  is  the  elo- 
quent tongue,  moving  all  hearts  with  its  pathos,  in- 
structing all  understanding  with  its  condensed  wisdom, 
and  marshaling  all  wills  into  harmony  of  purpose  and 
unity  of  action  by  its  impassioned  pleadings.  There 
is  the  tongue  of  the  tale-bearer,  scattering  seeds 
of  strife  and  sowing  germs  of  suspicion  in  the  hearts 
of  trusted  friends  and  honored  brethren.  There  is 
the  tongue  of  the  false,  ever  weaving  webwork  of  de- 
ceit to  enmesh  the  innocent,  the  unwary,  and  the  in- 
genious ;  full  of  all  subtlety,  sophistry,  or  innuendo ; 
moving  but  to  blight  reputation ;  acting  but  to  en- 
gender an  universal  doubt  which  may  fittingly  voice 
itself  in  the  exceeding  bitter  cry — "All  men  are 
liars."  And  there  is  the  tongue  unclean,  with  its 
iilthy  joke,  its  lewd  story,  its  obscene  double  meaning ; 
and  all  to  win  a  laugh — to  court  a  smile.  Good  God ! 
what  a  perversion  of  this  glory  of  our  manhood  ! 
A  man  unsluicing  the  fountain  of  his  filthy  heart, 
that  the  fetid  torrent  may  rush  forth  to  carry  along 


358         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

its  desolating  course  corruption  that  shall  foul  the 
memory  and  stain  the  imagination  of  all  through 
whom,  as  hearers,  the  loathsome  current  flows.  Ah  ! 
this  is  enough  to  make  the  angels  weep.  Talk  of  a 
living,  moving  leper,  touching  but  to  taint,  breathing 
but  to  poison  the  physical  life  of  man  1  He  is  health, 
he  is  beauty,  compared  with  him  whose  speech  is  mil- 
dew and  death  to  all  that  is  fair  in  fancy  and  sweet  in 
feeling  in  the  nature  of  the  youthful  listener.  Breth- 
ren, here  is  a  most  legitimate  sphere  for  the  applica- 
tion of  self-government.  Let  us  renew,  again  and 
again,  our  oath  and  obligation  to  repress  and  put  down 
all  and  every  tendency  to  such  speech  as,  if  indulged, 
insults  the. genius  of  our  venerable  Craft.  Remem- 
ber that  you  cannot  recall  your  words.  You  might 
as  well  attempt  to  call  back  the  light  of  morning, 
once  it  hath  streamed  from  the  fountain  of  the  Orient ; 
you  might  as  well  hope  to  arrest  the  lightning,  once 
it  hath  leaped  from  the  secret  place  of  thunder ;  you 
might  as  well  hope  with  a  gossamer  web  to  stem 
Niagara,  in  its  fury  of  resistless  rush,  as  to  recall  the 
word  let  loose  by  your  consent.  It  has  become  one 
of  the  active  energies  of  the  universe.  It  is  destined 
to  immortality  by  the  law  of  conservation  of  forces. 
Its  history  henceforth  shall  be  one  of  ceaseless  blessing 
or  ceaseless  curse.  And  once  again  shall  the  speaker 
hear  it  as  it  travels  round  the  whispering  gallery 
of  space. 

IV.  There  is  the  law  of  mutual  help.  This  was 
one  of  the  prime  movers  in  the  breasts  of  those 
who  fashioned  the  frame-work  of  our  fraternity. 


MASONIC  ORATION.  359 

This  has  never  been  lost  sight  of  by  the  master- 
builders  of  our  institution.  This  is  the  cement  which 
binds,  as  with  the  law  of  gravitation,  the  edifice  of 
Masonry  into  imperishable  strength.  Remove  that 
principle  and  the  structure  totters,  crumbles,  and  be- 
comes the  very  "  abomination  of  desolation."  Mutual 
help — it  is  a  divine  law.  By  it  the  Supreme  Archi- 
tect orders  and  upholds  all  things.  Around  us  and 
below  us  and  above  us,  we  meet  with  it  in  ceaseless 
operation.  The  flowers  live  for  the  insect  and  the 
insect  for  the  flower  ;  the  hills  live  for  the  valleys  and 
the  clouds  live  for  the  hills  ;  the  ocean  lives  for  the 
dry  land  and  the  rivers  of  the  dry  land  live  for  the 
ocean.  Every  thing  leans  on  and  helps  to  bear  up 
every  thing  beyond,  below,  or  above  itself.  The 
heavens  lean  on  the  earth,  and  the  earth  reflects  the 
splendor  of  the  heavens  from  its  laughing  valleys,  its 
snow-capped  sierras,  and  its  ever-changing  seas. 
Earth  lives  for  man  and  man  lives  for  the  earth,  to 
develop,  defend,  and  decorate  it  by  his  wise  and  gen- 
erous sovereignty  o'er  it.  And  shall  not  man  live  for 
his  fellow-man?  Shall  not  experience  instruct  art- 
lessness,  learning  enlighten  ignorance?  Shall  not 
gladness  dispel  sorrow,  and  youthful  might  give  its 
arm  to  tottering  age,  and  affluence  become  the  almoner 
of  heaven  to  homes  of  penury  and  victims  of  bereave- 
ment and  disaster  ?  Thus  the  poverty  of  my  brother 
may  mfke  me  rich  in  goodness ;  the  feebleness  of  my 
neighbor  may  make  me  strong  in  sympathy  ;  the  lone- 
liness of  my  companion  may  make  me  opulent  in  all 
the  social  affinities  or  affections  of  my  being.  Mine 


360         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

is  an  altogether  ampler  and  loftier  being  by  so  much 
as  I  live  beyond  myself  ;  receive  but  to  give  ;  acquire 
but  to  distribute ;  and  go  forth  under  the  impelling 
conviction  that.  I  am  debtor  to  every  man  less  happy, 
less  cultured,  less  honored  than  myself.  Let  sorrow 
wail,  I  weep  ;  let  laughter  clap  its  hands  with  joy,  I 
swell  the  glad  acclaim  by  laughter  just  as  load. 

What  is  a  man,  left  to  himself  ?  Less  than  nothing 
and  vanity ;  an  embodiment  of  impotence  and  igno- 
rance, crudeness  and  uncouthness  ;  his  powers  palsied, 
his  faculties  torpid,  his  being  a  dwarfed  and  shriveled 
abortion.  He  is  made  incomplete  because  made  for 
another  to  be  his  help-mate ;  a  hook  without  an 
eye  ;  a  ball  without  its  socket ;  a  mortise  without  its 
tenon. 

Civilization  is  impossible  without  mutual  help. 
United,  man  unlocks  the  treasures  of  his  heart,  lets 
loose  the  fountains  of  his  fancy,  wings  the  pinion  of 
his  reason,  develops  the  potencies  of  his  speech, 
educes  the  skill  of  his  fingers,  the  ken  of  his  vision, 
and  the  music  which  slumbers  in  his  chords  of  hear- 
ing. United,  he  beats  back  the  ocean  or  levels  the 
Alps  ;  from  sand-hills  calls  into  glorious  existence  the 
Queen  City  of  the  Golden  Gate  ;  and  from  the  mo- 
rasses of  the  lake  bids  a  Chicago  into  splendid  being, 
'as  by  the  fiat  of  an  omnific  necromancer. 

No  mutual  benefit  association  are  we  ;  yet  live  we 
to  prove  that  we  are  "  our  brother's  keeper,"  tnd  that 
only  as  we  "  bear  one  another's  burdens "  are  we  ful- 
filling the  law  of  Masonry. 

V.  To  me  it  seems  a  most  beautiful  thing  that  we 


MASOXIC  ORATION.  361 

should  have  as  our  first  Great  Masters  those  whose 
craft  engaged  them  in  the  building  of  a  temple. 
Others  might  have  been  selected.  For  builders  of 
that  age  there  were  other  than  Solomon  and  his  com- 
panions. But  not  by  chance  was  it  that  the  historic 
founders  of  our  fraternity  were  men  engaged  in  a 
work  so  God-like.  Not  from  the  midst  of  masons 
engaged  in  piling  pyramids  wherein  Egypt's  despots 
might,  as  embalmed  mummies,  slumber  ;  not  from  the 
hosts  of  masons  engaged  in  building  palaces  wherein 
luxury  and  licentiousness  might  revel  and  rule — pal- 
aces, symbols  of  cruelty,  of  blood,  and  fraud ;  not 
from  the  circles  of  masons  employed  in  constructing 
triumphal  arches  beneath  which  conquerors,  laureled 
with  victory  and  sated  with  applause,  might  pass — 
conquerors  whose  pastime  was  murder,  whose  hordes 
were  minions  of  tyranny,  whose  career  was  devasta- 
tion, and  whose  blood-letting  sufficed  to  "  incarnadine 
the  ocean,  making  the  green  one  red ;  "  not  from  cir- 
cles of  men  engaged  in  any  or  in  all  of  labors  such 
as  these  :  but  from  masons  whose  skill  and  toil  were 
consecrated  to  a  work  so  holy  as  that  of  building  a 
temple  for  the  worship  of  the  one  living  and  true 
God — as  if  to  tell  us  that  our  Masonic  life  springs 
from  religion,  is  nourished  by  religion,  and  must  ever 
repose  and  flourish  engirdled  by  religion,  even  as  the 
worshipers  within  the  sacred  edifice  on  Zion's  crest. 

VI.  And  then,  the  Builders,  the  Master  Masons 
and  Grand  Masters.  Who  were  they  ?  They  were 
of  different  nationalities ;  they  were  of  different 
social  standing.  There  was  the  Hebrew  and  the 


362          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

Phenician ;  there  was  the  Jew  and  the  Gentile  ;  there 
was  the  monarch  and  the  subject  ;  there  was  the  opu- 
lent Solomon  and  there  was  the  needy  artisan,  the 
son  of  "the  widow  woman."  Again  a  beautiful 
symbol,  or  series  of  symbols.  Within  our  fraternity 
nationality  is  unknown.  Here  I,  though  an  Anglo- 
Saxon,  grasp  the  hand  of  a  son  of  Abraham — I  one 
of  the  descendants  of  Japheth,  he  one  of  the  descend- 
ants of  Shem.  Here,  royalty  sits  side  by  side  with 
the  chief  magistrate  of  a  republic.  Here,  opulence 
grasps  the  horny  fist  of  him  who  wields  the  chisel  or 
who  drives  the  plow.  And  here  loneliness  and  want 
and  sorrow  find  sure  help  and  solace,  for  the  widow's 
son  may  leave  a  widow  and  a  son  as  well — the  objects 
at  once  of  our  tenderest  pity  and  our  most  generous 
benefactions. 

YII.  Immortality  is  ours.  Yonder  our  system 
warrants  us  in  looking.  The  acacia  sprig  speaks  of  a 
life  that  survives  the  grave — of  a  being  that  smiles  at 
death's  darts — of  a  manhood  "  born  to  the  purple  "  of 
an  immortal  kingship.  For  that  we  are  urged  to 
live.  From  that  we  are  urged  to  gather  inspiration 
for  the  life  that  now  is.  Our  ranks  are  suffering  loss 
by  the  removal  thence  of  honored  and  trusted  broth- 
ers. They  are  not  lost.  They  still  practice  their 
sublime  art  in  building  up  edifices  of  knowledge, 
wisdom,  and  joy,  in  some  distant  region  of  the  Su- 
preme Architect's  domain.  "We  shall  meet  them,  if 
we  be  true  and  humble  and  faithful  men.  Aye,  we 
shall  meet  them  in  possession  of  highest  Masonic 
honors,  and  within  the  enclasping  shelter  of  the  most 


MASONIC  OKATION.  363 

perfect  of  Masonic  workmanship  ;  most  perfect ;  for 
is  it  not  a  "  city  which  hath  foundation  ? "  Is  it  not 
a  city  "  foursquare,"  having  gates  north,  south,  east, 
and  westward  ?  Is  not  that  Masonic  ?  And  we  shall 
have  our  Great  Light,  even  the  Builder  and  Maker 
himself ;  and  there  shall  be  no  need  of  the  light  of 
the  candle.  And  there  shall  be  no  temple — no  tem- 
ple, as  there  shall  be  no  tomb  ;  no  tomb,  for  all  shall 
be  life ;  no  temple,  for  the  spanless  city  is  itself  the 
temple — "  the  house  not  made  by  hands,  eternal  in 
the  heavens."  Within  that  foursquare  city  our  broth- 
erhood is  gathering  as  the  stream  of  time  flows 
onward. 

They  come  from  the  ends  of  the  earth, 

"White  with  its  aged  snows ; 
From  the  bounding  breast  of  the  tropic  tide, 

Where  the  day-beam  ever  glows. 

From  the  east,  where  first  they  dwelt, 

From  the  north  and  the  south  and  the  west; 

Where  the  sun  puts  on  his  robe  of  light, 
And  lays  down  his  crown  to  rest 

God  grant  us  all  to  meet  there,  and  answer  to  the 
roll-call  of  the  Grand  Lodge  of  a  glorified  humanity. 


364         GUARD'S  LECTUKES  AND  ADDKESSES. 


CENTENNIAL  ADDRESS.* 

A  HUNDKED  years  old!  Our  first  century  of 
IJL  life  as  a  nation,  completed !  From  how  many 
tongues  shall  these  words  fall !  In  how  many  tones 
shall  these  sentences  float  out  into  illimitable  space ! 
Over  how  many  heart-chords  shall  responsive  feelings 
sweep !  By  how  many  outward  and  visible  and  audi- 
ble tokens  shall  the  nation's  joy  be  revealed !  The 
boom  of  cannon,  the  shout  of  myriads,  the  blazonry 
of  banners,  the  orator's  eulogy,  the  psalm  of  reverent- 
ly joyous  congregations,  the  festive  gathering  and 
greeting,  the  mimic  battle  upon  land  and  sea,  the 
merry  pic-nic,  the  thronged  streets,  the  suspended 
trade,  by  these  and  such  as  these  methods,  shall  a 
nation  tell  forth  its  ecstasy  and  congratulate  itself 
upon  its  birth,  its  growth,  its  vigor,  its  hope,  its  toils 
well  endured,  its  battles  nobly  fought,  its  victories  as 
wisely  improved  as  they  were  heroically  won,  its 
broadening  territory,  its  developed  wealth,  its  pro- 
gressive intelligence,  its  augmented  morality,  its  am- 
plifying and  robust  piety,  its  flag  uiirent  and  floating 
over  a  united  people,  at  home  prosperous,  abroad 

*  Being  fragmentary  notes  of  an  oration  at  Howard-street  M.  E. 
Church,  San  Francisco,  on  the  centennial  anniversary  of  the  Inde- 
pendence of  the  United  States  of  America,  July,  1876. 


CENTENNIAL  ADDRESS.  365 

honored,  admired,  wondered  at,  and,  doubtless,  "en- 
vied by  less  happy  lands." 

***«*« 

The  people  had  undergone  a  fitting  discipline  for 
the  great  work  assigned  them  by  providence. 

The  struggles  with  inclement  climate,  the  conflicts 
with  Indian  tribes,  the  wars  with  the  French,  all 
educated  them  into  a  higher  capacity  for  the  fatigues, 
perils,  and  stern  duties  of  a  military  life ;  so  that, 
when  the  clarion  summoned  them  to  the  field,  they 
surprised  the  veterans  of  Europe  by  their  endurance, 
their  strategy,  their  bravery. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

Give  us  room  —  this  was  needed  for  the  new  re- 
public— room  wherein  we  may  expand  ;  room  whereto 
we  may  invite  and  welcome  the  refugees  from  Old 
World  tyranny  and  wrongs ;  room  to  build  a  tem- 
ple of  such  dimensions  that  all  the  oppressed  may 
find  beneatli  the  roof  a  shelter,  and  within  its  walls  a 
sanctuary,  from  the  strife  of  men  and  the  rough  hand 
of  persecution. 

And  here  the  Quaker  found  a  quiet  resting-place. 
Here  the  Huguenot  obtained  relief  from  the  Edicts  of 
cruel  Frenchmen.  Here  the  Waklensian  fugitive  es- 
caped from  the  wiles  of  his  relentless  foes.  Here  the  , 
Puritan  and  Presbyterian  from  England  and  from 
Ireland  defied  their  enemies  to  molest  and  immolate 
them.  And  when  of  such  blood  the  new  republic 
was  composed,  no  wonder  if  its  foundations  were 
laid  of  adamant  and  its  walls  of  granite,  immovable 
amid  the  perturbations  of  less  favored  peoples  and 


366         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

inviolable  through  all  the  vicissitudes  of  this  transitory 

world. 

•*•*#•*#•# 

Yes,  religion  must  surely  wane,  decay,  expire,  un- 
less upheld  by  governmental  aid  and  patronage. 
Villages  shall  grow  up  in  godlessness.  Towns  shall 
forget  there  is  a  sabbath.  Cities  shall  be  found  with- 
out a  solitary  temple  of  prayer.  The  poor  shall  be 
left  to  rot,  and  the  aged  to  die  without  a  single  word 
to  soothe,  or  hand  to  wipe  the  death-damp  from  their 
furrowed  brows.  Infidelity  shall  become  rampant; 
conscience  become  a  mockery;  God  a  lifeless,  will- 
less  law  of  nature;  and  man  a  highly  organized 
material  machine.  Houses  of  mercy  shall  be  unnum- 
bered among  the  dwellings  of  such  a  people.  Chil- 
dren shall  wax  daring  in  infamy.  Households  shall 
be  nurseries  of  crime,  of  falsehood,  and  of  Inst.  And 
soon  shall  such  a  people  deserve  the  doom  of  Sodom 
or  the  deluge  of  the  Antediluvians;  traitors  against 
the  majesty  of  God,  the  sacredness  of  virtue !  Yes, 
this,  such  as  this,  may  have  been  the  prognostication 
of  the  false  prophets  who  beheld  the  birthday  of  a 
government  which  proclaimed  the  divine  right  of 
men  to  liberty  of  conscience,  of  worship,  and  of  creed. 
But  have  such  been  the  results  ?  A  thousand  times,  no ! 

Nowhere  is  conscience  so  free ;  and  nowhere  are 
the  products  of  religion  so  many  and  so  manifold  as 
here.  Where  is  the  hamlet  without  its  church? 
Where  is  the  village  without  its  Sabbath  -  school  ? 
Wherever  the  log-hut  rears  its  humble  roof  the  rustic 
chapel  invites  to  prayer  and  praise.  Where  has  so 


CENTENNIAL  ADDRESS.  367 

much  money  been  spent  in  the  erection  of  noble 
shrines;  where  so  much  salary  paid  to  able  pastors; 
where  greater  energy  in  benevolent  enterprise ;  where 
a  larger  number  of  religious  periodicals  published ; 
where  a  profounder  interest  taken  in  church  and  pas- 
tor, than  in  this  land  where  every  one  may  choose 
his  own  creed  ? 

****** 
The  men  of  the  Revolution  started  without  a  State 
Church ;  but  they  started  with  an  open  Bible,  with  a 
heaven-planted  conscience,  and  with  the  blessing  of 
the  God  of  heaven.  These  three  were  enough  of 
capital,  I  dare  say.  These  men  had  too  firm  a  faith  in 
conscience,  in  truth,  in  God,  to  think  of  leaning  upon 
human  government  for  support  in  the  maintenance 
of  that  which  they  esteemed  more  precious  than  ease, 
than  profit,  than  love  of  country ;  aye,  than  love  of 
life.  The  men  who  fled  from  Louis  XIV.,  as  Hugue- 
nots, might  not  they  be  trusted  to  feed  the  fires  of 
piety  ?  The  men  who  fled  from  the  hills  and  gorges 
of  the  Waldenses  from  Sardinian  tyrants,  might  not 
they  be  trusted  to  keep  their  piety  pure  ?  The  men 
who  fled  from  the  crooked-hearted  Stuarts  of  England, 
for  conscience'  sake,  might  not  they  be  trusted  with 
the  holy  art  of  godly  worship  ? 

****** 
Grand  as  the  past  has  been,  the  future  shall  far 
surpass  it.  The  best  days  are  all  before,  not  behind. 
The  populations  of  the  earth  are  but  a  handful  com- 
pared with  what  they  shall  be.  The  productions  of 
the  soil  are  but  a  handful  compared  with  what  they 


308         GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

shall  be.  The  resources  of  the  hills  are  but  a  hand- 
ful compared  with  what  they  shall  be.  The  knowl- 
edge gained  by  science  is  but  a  boy's  primer  com- 
pared with  what  shall  be  the  mastery  over  nature's 
forces  wielded  by  man ;  but  child's  play  compared 
with  what  shall  be.  The  spread  of  virtue  is  but 
narrow  compared  with  what  shall  be.  The  enlighten- 
ment of  man  is  but  unlight  compared  with  what  shall 
be.  This  nation  is  destined  to  live,  not  die ;  live,  not 
droop ;  live,  not  shrivel ;  live,  not  drivel ;  live  a  deep- 
er life  in  thought,  a  purer  life  in  morals,  a  calmer  life 
in  effort,  a  rounder  life  in  culture,  a  diviner  life  in 
charity,  in  love. 

Why  should  the  mother  of  the  seas  be  still  young, 
active,  advancing,  though  a  thousand  years  old,  and 
her  daughter  die  ?  Progress  is  the  law  of  history,  of 
God.  Let  the  fullness  of  Christian  principle  be  as- 
similated by  our  nation,  and  we  are  sure  of  conserva- 
tion with  progression.  Christianity  is  the  salt  which 
repels  corruption  and  disintegration,  and  conserves  in 
vigorous  vitality.  Whatever  it  touches  it  immortal- 
izes ;  whatever  it  controls  it  preserves ;  whatever  it 
transforms  it  imbues  with  immutability.  For  it  is 
"  the  word  of  our  God  which  abideth  forever." 

The  nation  lives  by  morality.  Morality  flows  from 
piety.  Morality  is  never  purer  than  its  source.  Mo- 
rality never  rises  higher  than  its  fountain.  Pagan 
nations  owned  not  divine  religion ;  their  gods  were 
monsters  and  their  morals  foul.  What  is  left  for  this 
nation  to  choose?  To  which  of  the  saints  shall* she 
turn  ?  To  none  of  them — to  none  of  them  ;  but  to  Him 


CENTENNIAL  ADDRESS.  369 

who  is  the  King  of  Saints  and  the  King  of  Nations. 
And  as  it  was  in  the  beginning,  so  is  it  now  and 
ever  shall  be.  O  God !  to  thy  care  she  commits  her- 
self for  another  century.  God  of  her  Fathers !  be  the 
God  of  their  succeeding  race.  Make  us  true,  lipright, 
just,  pure,  humble,  generous,  grateful.  Hallow  our 
joys  ;  sanctify  our  sorrows ;  chasten  us  when  haughty  ; 
guard  us  when  imperiled ;  crown  us  with  such  glory 
as  we  are  able  to  bear ;  and  upon  all — 

****** 

Freed  from  some  of  the  weights  with  which  the 
republic  began  a  hundred  years  ago,  she  to-day  begins 
a  new  career  unhand icapped.  For  instance :  she  began 
with  slavery ;  that  weight  is  gone  ;  that  cancer  cut  out 
by  the  sword.  It  shall  never  stick  its  roots  again  into 
the  commonwealth.  It  shall  not  debauch  the  con- 
science of  commerce  or  of  the  Church  or  of  the  family. 
No,  thank  God,  that  is  of  the  past,  no  more  to  clog, 
cripple,  or  cramp.  With  an  honest  heart  and  uplifted 
brow  the  nation  may  front  the  future  so  far  as  that 
is  concerned. 

That  there  shall  not  be  other  foes  with  which  to 
struggle  we  dare  not  say.  The  world  is  not  yet  all 
righteous,  true,  loving.  Wealth  may  breed  pride ; 
pride,  haughtiness.  Wealth  may  breed  luxury ;  lux- 
ury, indolence;  indolence,  lust,  animalism,  and  cor- 
ruption. The  struggle  for  political  office  may  engen- 
der falsehood,  create  hatred,  bring  forth  jealousies, 
and  diffuse  discord  and  seeds  of  anarchy.  But  it  need 
not,  though  it  may.  Personal  piety  is  the  specific 
antidote,  is  the  mighty  defense,  against  such  peril. 


370          GUARD'S  LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES. 

The  influx  of  immigrants  may  become  such  as  to 
all  but  swamp  the  native-born,  and  all  but  deluge  the 
religious  customs,  belief,  worship,  of  this  great  Prot- 
estant people.  How  to  meet  this  without  sacrifice  of 
liberty  is  the  problem.  To  maintain  liberty  in  the 
fullest,  loftiest  sense,  you  will  be  compelled  to  repress 
by  moral,  only  moral,  means  any  and  every  system 
which  lives  but  upon  ignorance  and  flourishes  but 
through  bigotry.  For  freedom's  sake  you  must  set 
your  face  as  flint  against  all  that,  in  politics,  can  place 
power  in  the  hands  of  such  as  have  never  failed  to 
prove  that  they  hate  freedom  of  thought,  freedom  of 
speech,  freedom  of  conscience  and  of  worship.  If 
there  be  in  the  midst  of  us,  under  our  flag,  and  favored 
by  our  institutions,  a  system  of  religious  belief — I  do 
not  say  there  is ;  but  if  there  be — whose  history  is 
written  in  blood ;  whose  throne  is  built  up  of  tyran- 
ny ;  whose  career  has  been  one  of  persecution,  and 
which  never  changes  in  principles  or  in  purpose ; 
which  lives  as  truly  as  a  thousand  years  ago  ;  which, 
wherever  it  has  had  the  power  its  own,  one  day  has 
used  it  to  expel  all  religions  but  its  own ;  against  that, 
as  the  sworn,  undying,  unalterable  foe  of  liberty,  let 
the  wisest,  soundest,  manliest  defense  be  maintained. 
That  is  one  of  the  perils.  To  me  it  is  a  simple  axiom 
that,  whatever  party  of  politicians  leans  upon  that 
power  for  support,  and  wins  success  by  so  leaning — 
that  party,  whether  it  knows  it  or  not,  is  the  subtle 
and  certain  and  deadly  enemy  of  this  free  common- 
wealth. 

THE  END. 


